Friday, July 23, 2010

WHERE THERE'S SMOKE, THERE'S FIRE - FALSE ALARM #2

Sometime during Jr. High School or Middle School depending on what part of the country you live in, I knew school and I weren't meant for each other. I frequently skipped school, cut classes and stayed high most of the time. When I reached high school (appropriately named in my case) I rarely attended classes. I might go to school, but my days consisted of sitting in the smoking lounges in the restrooms and "smoking" or doing whatever I felt like doing. Going to class was rarely on my itinerary!

One day after Christmas vacation, I had a terminal case of the munchies. Cafeteria food was pretty disgusting even to someone with the munchies, so I decided to hike down the street to the golden arches. After going to my locker to get my coat, I figured going out the front entrance of the school would give me the best chance of not being stopped upon leaving. Just as I was about to leave, the fire alarms went off in the school. Immediately, 2000 bitching kids emptied outside in the bitter cold.

The bitch fest about being outside in the cold grew pretty loud until little by little it finally quieted to complete silence. When I realized why everyone had gotten silent, I felt a hand on my arm. The principal said, "Come with me!" Out of 2000 people, I was the only one wearing a coat.

I tried explaining I was just cutting school to go get something to eat and didn't have anything to do with the false alarm, but the principal didn't seem interested in hearing my story. He poked me in the records room and told me he'd be back in a few minutes to deal with me. I was pretty pissed off and decided this would be a perfect opportunity to get even. I opened the file cabinets holding school records, grabbed some files and then went to the window. After opening the window, I liberated the records by tossing them outside into the snow. I repeated this until the file cabinets were empty. I shut the window and sat patiently in the chair waiting for the principal to return.

Once in his office, I didn't get much of an opportunity to speak. He expelled me from school, yet told me I had to finish out the day and return the next morning with my parents. WTF, no time off??? I marched out of his office and straight to the smoking room where I remained for the rest of the day. At the end of the day, when I was leaving school I walked by his office and noticed no one was in there. I slipped in and out quickly leaving him a present. As I walked out of the building, I had a smile on my face. I knew how rattled he'd be when he returned to his office and sat down at his desk to see a joint staring at him.

Of course the next day, I was questioned about the school records and the present. What school records? No witnesses, no proof...so what if they had put me in that room! I bet they wouldn't make that mistake again. And as for alleged present, I certainly wouldn't waste a joint on a straight person...that is, if I did drugs! I often wondered if they recovered all the records or how many the wind scattered into no man's land. Unfortunately mine stayed intact and contains my colorful history of being oppositionally defiant. I know that principal was glad the next month when I overdosed, was brought to the ER and never returned to school. False alarm? I don't think so! I just don't think anyone was really paying attention or knew where the real fire was!

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful for the nine lives I apparently have!

All gibberish within ©2004-2010 Mildred Ratched Memoirs.

2 comments:

  1. This is really quite a sad story. I am sorry your younger years were so fraught.

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  2. I remember reading this and the previous entry before. I have similar stories in my history (although drug and drink didn't surface until I was an adult) and the one thing I remember is always being told I exhibited self-destructive behavior. I refused to believe it at the time.

    I suppose I always was my own worst enemy but, like you, I realize that I wouldn't be me without the experiences, good and bad. I agree with Laoch, though. It is a sad story.

    I'll celebrate one of your nine lives with a non-alcoholic beverage.

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