Don't Give Us Your Tired

Okay, so I have reached a time in this life that I have decided to do something that I don’t normally do because it’s like against my code of ethics or religion or something. I am taking a stand on an issue that has recently become very near and dear to my cold, shriveled, blackened excuse for a heart. And really this should be a cause that everyone takes up. I am of course talking about the scourge presented by old people.

Look, I have nothing against old people. If it weren’t for old people we wouldn’t have wonderful inventions for me to take advantage of, like the early bird special or handicapped parking. (Oh lighten up. It was only one time at a McDonald’s and I really needed to pee. I left right after.) I’m just saying that sometimes old people should be banned from certain activities. Like fucking up my day.

Now don’t get me wrong. I am all for everyone having a job and being all empowered and full of Geezer Pride, but all I’m trying to say is that once you have reached the age of, say, four hundred, perhaps substitute teaching is something that you might want to consider not doing anymore.

There was a sub just like this at school yesterday. She’s been there a bunch of times, so I’ve seen her there before, but I’ve never quite understood what the fuck she is there for. And I’m not sure what her name is because everyone just refers to her as Ms. Old Lady. Well, I don’t know who’s brilliant idea it was to let this woman take this one particular class, but whoever it was should be slapped a couple times. Sadly, the class I am talking about was a pre K class. This isn’t just your ordinary, everyday pre K class. This is like the super crazy, borderline violent pre K class. (Yeah. They are really scary.)

Well apparently someone wasn’t as drunk as someone else because they sent me to the class to make sure that kids did not destroy this woman. Though the people who watched me walking to the class later told me that I looked like I was being sent to my death from the look on my face. Stepping in the class, I was a little shocked because I had never seen the class so well behaved before. It took me a minute to realize they were only well behaved because they were scared shitless because of the specter of death sitting in front of them. (Look, I’m not trying to be mean, but she kind of looked like the Crypt Keeper.)

Well, let’s just say that fear was not a deterrent for very long. The kids went nuts not long after. I mean there was screaming, hair pulling, hitting, and in some manner that I am not sure of, but I am 100% sure that I don’t want to know, a pair of panties ended up on the floor, which of course, she didn’t bother to pick up at the end of the day. Yeah, ew.

Well, I escaped for most of the day, but they sent me back at the end of the day to help her with dismissal. Really, if they are going to ask me to do things like this, I wish they would at least provide a bullet that I could bite and then shoot myself with later. I get there and the only thing that can describe the room is a clusterfuck of crazy. At some point, one the kids shredded an entire roll of toilet paper. Several of them were crying. And two of them were still asleep from naptime. Not a scene I wanted to see when I have a line of angry ass parents who want to know where the fuck there little brats are.

Needless to say I just started grabbing kids, sleeping or not, and just started dragging them out to cars. I had to be quite rude to some parents who were quite curious as to why their child did not have his backpack and/or was unconscious. Which I just had to answer, “I don’t care. I’m not your kid’s teacher. It’s cold. Peace out.”

See this is the kind of shit that happens when you let old people have free reign over their employment. It’s not cool because it starts to affect my shit. I’m not saying that all of them should, but a good amount could be set adrift and it would be alright. Perhaps the world would be better for it.

But until that time, I wish old people would stick to the jobs that were created for them, like Walmart door greeter or coffin model. I’m just saying. Don’t shoot the messenger.

Comments

[Lo]

Ha! I hear you - I work with a couple of oldies and all it does is make my life harder