#1 Eula HS Faculty Meeting


This is the first of a series of Eula HS Faculty Meetings 

Our Monday morning high school faculty meeting had reached the spot on the agenda for teacher concerns.

Mr. Hardball, the tough little principal with the blonde flat top, said, “It’s almost time to get to class, folks.  Any concerns from you folks before we begin another week of getting these wild and woolly juveniles in line?”

Mrs. Teachall looked over the top of her reading glasses, met the young principal’s gaze, and raised her hand high.  With determination that demanded attention, ignoring Mr. Hardball’s suggestion of a shortage of time, she waved her hand.  Sally Mae was a buxom English teacher with long steel-gray hair she kept wrapped in a stiff bun behind her head.  The front was pulled tight and greased to the top of her head.  If you touched the hair it sprang back in place like coiled steel spring.

“I have a concern, Mr. Hardball.”

“Go ahead, Mrs. Teachall.  Make it brief.  We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Last Friday the faculty restroom was occupied and besides it was getting atrociously smelly.  Somebody has been smoking in the little room since the board policy changed so as to not allow smoking on the school grounds.  You must put a stop to that smoking, but that isn’t the concern I wish to pursue today.”

She paused to breath and Mr. Hardball said, “And what, pray-tell, is your problem, Mrs. Teachall.  Please be brief.  We don’t have all day.”

She took a deep breath and began again.  “Since the smelly little faculty toilet was occupied and I was almost late for class, I was forced to use the student’s rest room.  I was appalled, Mr. Hardball.  I was appalled.  The doors of the stalls were hanging loose, the water was running in the sink, four letter words were scratched into the mirror, the walls beside the toilets all had writing on them and one of the toilets had run over.  There was water all over the floor.  And I don’t think the water was pure.  You wouldn’t believe what was written on those walls, sir.  One wall had a thesis on the drug culture that described drug and alcohol combinations I’m sure none of us has ever even dreamed of trying.  Actually, it was very well written and might have scored a high grade in my composition class.

“Another wall was filled with an essay of complaints about this school that ranged from personal attacks on most of our teachers to a suggestion about how badly the writer felt for your wife, since she was forced to sleep with you each night.  It was repugnant, Mr. Hardball.

“One of the stalls contained a list of phone numbers and statements like, ‘Want a good lay?  Call 555-1567.’  I called that number and got Robby Imacat, the president of our student body.  I recognized his voice.  I disguised my own voice and told him, I was an eighth grader and wanted some good sex.  He asked if I got his number off the rest room wall in the high school.  I said yes and he said, ‘I get to share myself with more young girls because of that number on the wall.’  I made a date with him for next Thursday, Mr. Hardball.  You must contact the authorities to follow up on the situation.

“Anyway, I think we need to start punishing these girls who are destroying public property in our school.”

Mr. Hardball said, “You’ve brought up some good points, Mrs. Teachall.  I shall speak with the custodian about doing a better job on the women’s rest room, but you all know how independent he is.  The man has a sixth grade education and he thinks he is overworked and underpaid.

“Whoever is smoking in the faculty restroom, you must stop, for your own good and for the good of those of us who are required to breath the second hand smoke.  Stop now, before I am forced to take more serious disciplinary action.

“Mrs. Teachall, in regard to your date with Robby Imacat, you better clear that situation with local police.  They know how to handle that sort of affair.  I will need to stay out of it since his father is on the school board.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Hardball.”  This was Miss Frenchy, the Spanish Teacher.  “I called that number and had a date with Robby.  I have to say the sex wasn’t all that great.”

The faculty let out a collective gasp, as if doing a choral reading.

“Just kidding,” said Miss Frenchy.   “I was only trying to add a little levity into the morning.  You all know I wouldn’t date a student.”

Mr. Hardball looked at his watch.  “We must table this topic for now.  You all must go to your classrooms and give our students the skills to face life.  Circle up and join hands now.

The teachers formed a circle.

“On three, ‘Go get ‘em.’

“One, two, three.”

“GO GET ‘EM!”  The faculty yelled in unison.





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