Short Skirts – Eula HS Faculty Meeting Story # 3

Short Skirts

Eula HS Faculty Meeting Story # 3


Principal Steven Hardball called the teachers meeting to order.

“Alright staff.  We have a lot to do before we hit the classrooms for a new week of imparting knowledge to these rascally children the people of Eula have trusted us to care for.  The big item on our agenda today is the school dress code; in particular we’re all concerned about skirt length.  For three years, we’ve had a simple rule.  A skirt may be no more than five inches above the knees.  Any higher, and the girl is sent home or to the locker room to change clothes.

For three years we’ve had this rule in Eula High School.  How many girls have been sent home?  Tell me.  How many times have we enforced this rule?

“Seventeen,” came the voice of the math teacher, Mr. Riker, from the back of the room.  “I’ll guess seventeen.”

“Wrong.  The answer is one.”  Principal Hardball raised his index finger of his right hand and held it high in the air.  “Yesterday, I confronted Marjory Menken about showing too much of her sexy legs in our hallways.  None of you has ever sent a girl to the office to go home to change a short skirt.  You teachers get big bucks for patrolling the halls of this school enforcing our rules.  It’s time to do your job.  Do your job or heads will start to roll around her.”

“Sir?”  came the voice from the math teacher in the back of the room.

“Do your job, staff.”

“Mr. Hardball?”  came the voice again.  Louder this time.

The principal looked up at the room full of teachers and noticed Mr. Riker’s hand in the air.

Mr. Hardball glanced back at his agenda and continued his directive.

“Starting today, I want each of you to carry a ruler with you.  Carry a ruler and use it whenever you see a female student with a skirt you think might be too short.”

“Mr. Hardball,” came the booming voice of Mrs. Sally Mae Teachall.  “You have a question coming from the back of the room.  I think you should answer it before the question is mute.  Mr. Riker seems to have a pertinent question.”

Principal Hardball moved his eyes to Sally Mae Teachall, focusing on the ponderous breasts of the veteran English teacher.  “I’ve already taken a question from Mr. Riker, Sally Mae.  We can’t have individual teachers dominating the discussion.”

“He only made his guess at the answer to your question, sir.  If this was my class, I’d be pleased to have the discussion.”

“Well, this is not your class, Sally Mae.  This is my class.  I’m in charge here and I don’t like your insubordination any more than Mr. Riker”s.”

“Mr. Riker has shown no sign of insubordination today, Mr. Hardball.  He simply wanted to ask a question.”

“Alright, Sally Mae.  I need to get on with this discussion so to quiet you, I’m going to let Mr. Riker make his comment.”

He turned his head and lifted his eyes toward the back of the room.

“Mr. Riker?”

“Thank you, sir.  You suggested that we get big bucks for patrolling the halls.  Two points:  First, we do not make big bucks.  Second, I think the public would agree that we draw our salaries for teaching math and chemistry and English and Spanish and history and music and physical education.”

Mr. Hardball’s neck began to glow red.

“Your job, Mr. Riker, is to do whatever you are ordered to do by the school board, the superintendent, and me.  Check the fine print in your contract.  We are your bosses.  What part of subservience do you not understand?”

“I consider my bosses to be the parents of my students who would like their children to learn mathematics so they can go on to college or the world of work and be able to do the job  Measuring skirt length would more than likely get me and the other male members of this faculty in serious trouble for messing around with the legs of our female students.  I think the parents would rather have me teach mathematics.”

“Parents will understand that we have a duty to make sure these kids graduate with good moral standards,” argued the red-faced principal.  “They will understand that teaching good morals means not allowing immorally short skirts.”

“Mr. Hardball,” interrupted Ms. Frenchy, the young Spanish teacher who often tantalized her male students by wearing overalls over a skimpy halter.  “The skirt that you wanted to measure on Marjory Menken was the same skirt she wore to church last Sunday.”

Mr. Hardball pointed at Angelina Frenchy.  “I am running a school here, not a church.   Remember, Jesus was a sexual perv who loved wanton women.”

A groan drifted through the room.

Mr. Hardball continued, “Didn’t you all see the movie?  Jesus standing around the well, talking to a prostitute.  He had a reputation.  We in this high school have moral responsibilities.”

Mr. Hardball pressed on, attempting to defend his position.  “Besides our current rules have dress code rules about boys as well.  We’ve written up some of our high school boys for having holes in their jeans and wearing them too low.”

Mrs. Sally Mae Teachall said, “Is it true that you tried to make Marjory Menken kneel, so you could measure her skirt with a ruler, Mr. Hardball?  And that she refused to let you do it without her parents being here.”

“It’s true.  She must wear the same skirt tomorrow.  Her parents are coming at ten o’clock and watching as I measure the skirt.”

“Be careful not to touch her leg.  You could lose your job and go to jail,” warned Mr. Thomas Jefferson, the American history teacher.

“What if Marjory stops off at the home economics class and has Ms. Seward lengthen the skirt?”  asked Angelina Frenchy.  “That’s what I’d do.”

“We all know you’re a devious woman, Angelina,” said Mr. Hardball.  “Now, you’ve used up our time and we never even got to the second item on our agenda.”

“And what’s that, sir?”

“We’ve had complaints that some teachers are leaving school early and therefore, beginning next Monday, we will add an extra fifteen minutes to the school day.  School will end for teachers at 4:15.”

“You can’t punish all of us for the actions of a few.  We learned that in Education 101 in college.”

“Time to go into the world and define the morals of these urchins in our hall ways, gang.  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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