I Don’t Understand What You Want From Me

IMG_1398.PNG(image http://www.funnyjunk.com)

I’m in the hallway, and a disgruntled teacher hasn’t an idea where the substitute Art teacher is. I suspect that the substitute has either A, read the schedule wrong and was taking a break at the wrong time or B, the schedule was copied down incorrectly for the Art Substitute.

I voice my suspicions because the teacher asks me his or her rhetorical question a second time, to me.

As always, I stupidly use humor to diffuse tense situations. I voice my suspicions, giving the two ideas above as my guess as to where the Art sub could be.

Then I told, what I thought was an amusing story of how one time our Art teacher accidentally copied his lunch break down for the sub wrong, giving the sub an extended late lunch. The sub was confused when no class appeared for 20 minutes and the sub went to question other resource teachers, only to find us all gone. Kind of a Twilight Zone, they’ve been snatched moment, for the sub from the story.

This was obviously a moronic thing to do. My story caused undue confusion, and when I tried to clarify the teacher got upset with me.

I admitted the fault may be with us, the fault may be with the office, the fault maybe the sub lost track of the time. The fault was never the teacher’s. Yet what spewed forth next was the most defensive retort to absolutely nothing I ever witnessed.

What the actual fanoodle do you want from me?


Next time I am asked where someone is, I am going to mimic this exactly, and shut my locked classroom door, and mind my own damn business:


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