Ludeford
One
Enter my tenth grade teacher. A tall, lanky man with squinty slits for eyes and those long grandfather fingers that seem to go on forever like spider legs. He had this thing where he would purse his lips and talk out of the side of his mouth when he was really excited about some Bob Dylan lyrics he would ritually sing to us in an ill advised attempt to get the class into poetry.
His walls were lined with paintings, his painting that weren't that bad I'll admit, but out of all of them he chose the shittiest one to be the proudest of. It was this cow that looked like a fairly talented four-year-old had drawn it and the background was nothing but artisticly applied candy green paint with yellow sploches. Every other class period he found a way to work that shitty cow into the discussion.
The guy also ran detention, which was always fun. He'd basically sit behind his desk and encourage us to use the hour to explore ourselves which usually led to us exploring right into the teacher's lounge for snacks. A friend of mine would always sit with him at his desk and write during the hour. She was a part of the Stickey Wicket -- the literary club he started and latter had to shut down and reopen under a new, less offensive name.
Many things could be said about my friend, but I guess the most direct way to communicate it to you would be to say she was smoking hot. Smoking hot and a shameless flirt. She even flirted endlessly with my teacher, which is I guess why he wrote her a poem entitled "Wanting."
"Its a personal piece," he explained in a whisper one day during detention. "About wanting something you can't have, but patiently hoping it'll come to you one day."
He shook his head no after my friend asked if it was for his wife. "It's for you."
Another thing that can be said about my friend is that she was seriously fucked up. In fact I never really liked her, she was just one of those people that fall into the friend category becuase you're forced to be around each other so much. Instead of turning the poem in like most people that want to avoid Dateline do, she began texting him and he would text back. Pictures. Naughty sayings. Promises of a bright future far from our town.
When we asked her why she was doing this she merely shrugged. "I just want to see how far he'd go."
One day while hanging out at a mutual friend's house, she recieved a text from the teacher asking her to meet him at a hotel behind the mall. "2day we can start our life 2gether," read the bold black lettering on her screen. Finally realizing the end was here she simply texted back, "Ew, I was kidding the whole time you freak." And thus ended their affair.
I've since heard the guy divorced his wife and was fired from the school for selling dlidos and condoms out of the trunk of his car to students. The other day I was driving around town and saw his fucking cow in a coffee house window.
His walls were lined with paintings, his painting that weren't that bad I'll admit, but out of all of them he chose the shittiest one to be the proudest of. It was this cow that looked like a fairly talented four-year-old had drawn it and the background was nothing but artisticly applied candy green paint with yellow sploches. Every other class period he found a way to work that shitty cow into the discussion.
The guy also ran detention, which was always fun. He'd basically sit behind his desk and encourage us to use the hour to explore ourselves which usually led to us exploring right into the teacher's lounge for snacks. A friend of mine would always sit with him at his desk and write during the hour. She was a part of the Stickey Wicket -- the literary club he started and latter had to shut down and reopen under a new, less offensive name.
Many things could be said about my friend, but I guess the most direct way to communicate it to you would be to say she was smoking hot. Smoking hot and a shameless flirt. She even flirted endlessly with my teacher, which is I guess why he wrote her a poem entitled "Wanting."
"Its a personal piece," he explained in a whisper one day during detention. "About wanting something you can't have, but patiently hoping it'll come to you one day."
He shook his head no after my friend asked if it was for his wife. "It's for you."
Another thing that can be said about my friend is that she was seriously fucked up. In fact I never really liked her, she was just one of those people that fall into the friend category becuase you're forced to be around each other so much. Instead of turning the poem in like most people that want to avoid Dateline do, she began texting him and he would text back. Pictures. Naughty sayings. Promises of a bright future far from our town.
When we asked her why she was doing this she merely shrugged. "I just want to see how far he'd go."
One day while hanging out at a mutual friend's house, she recieved a text from the teacher asking her to meet him at a hotel behind the mall. "2day we can start our life 2gether," read the bold black lettering on her screen. Finally realizing the end was here she simply texted back, "Ew, I was kidding the whole time you freak." And thus ended their affair.
I've since heard the guy divorced his wife and was fired from the school for selling dlidos and condoms out of the trunk of his car to students. The other day I was driving around town and saw his fucking cow in a coffee house window.