You Won't Believe Me

...but this is one of the busiest weeks at my job (my money job. the one I go to every day. where I do all my best blogging. For which I have yet to be fired.) and i'm spent like a dime right about now trying to get the last pan of chili heated for the hot dogs for the evening students (nothing says lovin' like a chilidog at five pm). I tell you one thing, there ain't no nineteen year old boy in this school who doesn't think of me as the next great white women because I brought them lunch all week long. (I didn't cook it, I just heat it and serve it. My boss cooks it, bless her heart.) Of course, there is the mild side-effect of getting completely worn out just as a pile of hungry, selfish, greedy students come charging in to eat. I don't know how to explain it. I have patience. I have love. I have grace. But when the third kid says, "How come you don't have any chicken?" or "Why don't you have onions for these?" or "Ain't you gonna give me more cake than that?" some part of me that I do not control flips him the bird. Sometimes I don't even look up. "Sarah, I know you're gonna give me more mashed potatoes than that!" The bird. "Sarah-man, how you gonna be stingy with the wings like that?" The bird. "Sarah, when we going out on a date?" No bird. Instead I smile and say, "When I want to get fired, you'll be the first to know." I have kids who hang around me during these trying times just in the hopes that they will hear me swear. I'm not sure why this is such a thrill for them, but sure enough, I burn my hand on a tray of steaming hot rice and out flies a shit or a fuck. And eyebrows go up. At least somebody gets a kick out of it.

It's hard work, this. But it's good work. I prefer scrubbing out huge tin pans in the teachers' lounge to washing my own cups and plates at home. And if I had to pick a hard job then carrying trays of food and dishing it out is a fun one. I mean seriously, how many desk jobs rotate from filing papers to chopping tomatoes? How often do you get to finish a spreadsheet and then fire up six sternels? Its the little things in life that make it so rich.

Labels: , , , ,


Anonymous normzone said...

"Sarah-man"... charactor in the LOTR trilogy, weren't you?

Sarah, all nineteen year-old boys want to go out with you. Me too.

23/9/05 15:03  
Blogger Worldgineer said...

I don't understand why anyone would want to piss someone off who serves them food. Sounds risky to me.

23/9/05 15:15  
Blogger k_sra said...

They don't mean to, World, they just weren't jerked up right.

23/9/05 15:29  
Blogger Tara said...

Last Halloween, the receptionist and I bought ten thousand pounds of Halloween candy (well it seemed like ten thousand pounds) for the students and there were still some who straggled in, sifted through the Snickers and the Milky Ways and the pieces of Bazooka Bubblegum then had the nerve to look up and say "This is all you've got?"

23/9/05 22:51  
Blogger dag said...

My Grandma taught me to flip the bird when I was about nine. It has since remained one of the more useful things I have ever learned. I'm glad to see I am not the only one who treasures its significance.

bbqckhs? for my word verification? I think KFC has found a hidden market for their advertising budget.

24/9/05 23:24  
Blogger k_sra said...

my brother calls me 'saruruman' which i find troubling. damn that tolkein and his fine cast of characters!

Tara. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Been there so many times I can play it on loop in my head.

25/9/05 12:36  
Blogger k_sra said...

Your grandma sounds cool. : )

25/9/05 12:37  
Blogger Steve DeGroof said...

//"Ain't you gonna give me more cake than that?"//
//"Sarah-man, how you gonna be stingy with the wings like that?"//

Are these students studying remedial English or remedial gender identification?

25/9/05 14:15  
Blogger k_sra said...

Our students practice a variation of both which they feels enhances their ethnic diversity.

26/9/05 07:44  

Post a Comment

<< Home

Web Counters