The First Day of School

I used to teach middle school.  I was young, idealistic, and I desperately wanted to be the cool teacher, or at least the weird one.  I inevitably failed every year becoming the cool one, but I generally was able to be the weird one.  On the first day of school, I would pounce into the classroom like Professor Snape and maniacally count the students three or four times. I would then perform this bizarre monologue.  The students would stare at me blankly and then I would ask them to write about it.  I did all of this before saying who I was or what class it was.  What made it even better was there was always some kid that was in the wrong class or period that would have to leave awkwardly afterwards.  Here is the monologue in its original form.

Tommy’s Monologue

 

Whenever I meet someone new, I’m scared of them. I’m pretty sure it’s normal – it must happen to everyone at one time or another –(manic) ‘It’s happened to you right?’ (Pause, look across the room, catch eyes and look down)  A part of me – A part of me knows, a part of me knows that they know what I’m thinking.  Don’t judge me…I’m not the one that’s sneaking around reading other people’s minds.  That would be crazy.  So I’m meeting these people shaking hands, nodding, pretending to care what their name is. But the whole time I’m thinking thoughts like… Wait! Hold on! Look; don’t judge me okay, this is so totally not crazy.  But I’m thinking thoughts like, (Hard whisper)  ‘Blink twice if you can hear me.’  But when they don’t, I worry that they’re just bein’ sneaky with me.  So I scream in my head ‘Blink at me you filthy mind reader or I’m going to throw up on your nice new shoes’ --- They never do, it’s weird, I know that they can probably read my mind, but they must be a little smarter than me and know how to hide that kind of stuff.  I mean those telepathics are a clever bunch, there’s even a few that I bump into that won’t even wipe those big wads of spit in the corner of their mouth even though I can concentrate on nothing else.  But I guess that they are just lying to me.  Reminds me of when I was a teenager.  I never could meet anyone without thinking about ham, it’s like this… Wait! Stop!  Pay Attention! Don’t Judge Me!  I don’t mean lunch meat, but like the radio…see, I used to love radio…the terrestrial kind.  And I would wonder if people would ever get on the air if they had that chance and when they got in front of people if their bladder suddenly shrunk and quivered.  If that nervous sweat dripped from then and made them miserable like their pet ferret, Sparkles, hadn’t just been killed in a freak dry-cleaning accident.  Being so nervous, talking to strangers over a mike, with a cobra eating the butterflies in your stomach.  (Hiss, thump, Hiss, Thump) Repeated animal kingdom in your lower intestine.  Don’t judge me okay, this is so totally not weird!  No, I bet other people don’t get nervous meeting potential mind readers.  They’ve got their shoulders back, chin up, and bladders the size of watermelons.  Bladders so big, that everyone behind them in line at the porta-potty is miserable with impatience.  Mind Readers…Hmmph they’re up to no good.  Reminds me of when I was a teenager.  I knew I could fly… Somewhere deep down in my heart I knew that I possessed the ability of flight, (exasperated) not on a plane, but like Superman.  So I went out into the yard, I know this sounds crazy but it’s not, don’t judge me.  Anyway I’m in the backyard, I couldn’t have the neighbors stealing my flight techniques that would be crazy, so anyway,  I stood next to Princess’s dog house bent my legs and concentrated so hard, brain freeze hard, cleared my mind, became one with my inner super being and pushed off.  I got about 6 inches off the ground.  Determined, I thought about how superheroes fly…what makes them different than me?  They use catch phrases.  So, I tried some catch phrases, like Up Up and Away!  Shazam!  Biiiiirrrrdmannn!  And then I made up some of my own like…Toasters are Nice Presesnts! Ducks are Silly!  And despite all of that, I couldn’t fly.  Isn’t that crazy? ---Well, isn’t it?  I knew that it couldn’t have been my fault though.  There probably was some kind of mind reader around…They probably put some kind of anti-flying apparatus hoo-doo in my brain. A psychic will do that you know.