Bitches

Originally Posted Friday, August 26, 2005

-BEEP- * Silence *

I always know when the director of the school is trying to get a hold of me on the intercom system, he never says a word just expects me to respond to the sound of heavy breathing coming from my speakers.

“So then I told him that the directors receding hairline looks like the top of a wet corn cob…..”

“Excuse me…….”

“Oh…..yes,” I say sounding as if I had no idea he was there.

“If you have a minute I need to speak to you.”

After getting a cup of coffee, checking out the new offices on the ninth floor, taking a nap in the janitor closet, I figured it was time to go see what the hell he wants.

I get up and head down the hall, peering into his office I decide I will walk past into the storage room to hear if I can pick up on what this conversation might be about. Placing my ear up to the wall I begin to listen intently.

“yes……yes…..I’m calling for the test results……..yes……..so all STD tests came back negative”

“Whoa”, I jump back from the wall and stick out my tongue as if I had just taken a bite from a sour apple. “Way too much information” I say to myself. Its obvious I’m not going to get any Intel from this approach, my best bet is going into his office to find out what the hell he wants.

Considering he is the director of the school you would expect him to have a rather large corner office. This however is not the case. His room measures about three feet by five feet with a desk that barely fits from wall to wall, causing anyone who sits behind it to pull a Dukes Of Hazard maneuver over the top of the desk in order to get out. On the wall are a couple of those inspirational posters that just make you want to puke. You know the ones “P.A.S.S.I.O.N, There are many things in life that will catch your eye, but only a few will catch your heart…pursue those.” Who the hell came up with something like that, Elton John on crack?

Behind him stands a book shelf filled with books of computer programming, office management, learn to speak a foreign language in 21 days, etc, etc. Most of the books being from the library of the “Complete Idiots Guide To…..” series and “The Dummies Guide…..”. He sits at his desk facing me, his hands folded in front of him on the desk, and his back straight up and down at attention, not to show me respect mind you, but rather he doesn’t have enough room to sit back without falling out of the window. Sitting on the desk looking down at me is my favorite administrations person. My day just got ugly.

I frown at him.

He sticks his tongue out at me.

I slap him as hard as I can across the face.

He cries like a baby.

We go back and forth like this for about ten minutes before the director interrupts my anger management session.

“Now stop that you two. As much as I like to see a good fight as the next guy, we have some business to attend to.” With one final loud SLAP across the admissions persons face, I sit down in the chair opposite the director, my knees folded up tight against my chest, as there is no room for them in front of me.

“Good, now that I see we are all comfortable we can continue.”

The admissions person rubbing the side of his face and still slightly whimpering looks over at me and begins to explain that he has just admitted a student who will be coming in for orientation next Monday.

“Fine” I say

“Yes but what you don’t understand is that we signed him up for Java. You do know Java right?” He asks me, now holding his hand in front of his face and cowering like a beaten dog.

“I know how to use it jackass, I don’t know how to program in it you dumb fuck” I stand up and bring my hand back as if to strike him again when the director says.

“Now calm down everyone, this isn’t a problem. How is the Oracle coming along” he asks me. Can’t I just go one week without this damn question. I gotta get to downloading those answer sheets off of warez.

“Slow” I say “My students are farther in the course then I am and trying to bounce back and forth from where they are to help them and where I am in the first part is a pain in the ass and slowing things down”

“Great, keep up the good work”

“huh…..”

“As for the Java, grab the books in back and start thumbing through them so you have a better understanding when the student arrives.”

“So my understanding is, we don’t have anyone here who is certified or knows Java programming?

“uh huh” they both nod in unison.

“And you both new this already right?”

Again they both nod “uh huh”

“And yet you still sign up a student to take the course and expect me to teach them something I don’t know.”

“That’s right” the director says “we figured since you are doing so well teaching the Oracle course that you can handle this one no problem”

“Handling it well” I explain “its called acting, and I think the students are catching on.”

“Well you should have no problem with just one student” he says

“Yeah whatever” I say in disgust I begin to stand up from my chair to leave the office when…

“Ah……well, that’s not entirely the case” the admissions person says hanging his head down low while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Who the hell said you could speak monkey boy” I demand, slapping him once again across his face.

“Well, see he has a few co-workers who also need to take the course and I already scheduled them through out the week to have you orientate them”

“WHAT???” I scream “are you insane, I can’t be bouncing between two fucking courses I know nothing about trying to teach people how to do it well enough to pass a vendor exam you moron”

The director seeing my obvious anger and the fact that my slaps have now turned into whaling fists of fury stands up and says “Now calm down, I’m sure…….” He slides over his desk to our side and grabs the back of my shoulders trying to pull me off of the admissions person who is now crouched into the fetal position in the corner of the room. “we can call one of the old teachers I know really well who is an ace at Java”

“Yeah” I say wiping the sweat running down my forehead “well you better start calling him now”

“Just out of curiosity” I ask looking down at the admissions person “how many students did you sign up next week for this orientation?”

“fff…..iiii….vvv…eee…one…….for…..each……day” he says with a quivering lip.

“Oh that’s just great, you do know that I am here alone next week as the other teacher is going on vacation RIGHT?” I scream into his ear.

At this point he just sits there continuing to whimper like a baby, the director pushing on my back ushers me out the door so he can calm the admissions person down. I bring my shoulder forward releasing his grasp and swing around making a fist like action at the admissions person and stomping my foot on the floor causing him to flinch and wince in fear.

“BITCH” I say as I walk out the door.


Pork Chop Sandwiches!

The Great Race

Originally posted Monday, August 22, 2005

It all started about 5 years ago when my buddy and I saw an ad in the local paper for an upcoming local canoe race. It consisted of three and a half miles down a shallow running rocky river, with twists and turns hidden obstacles that can capsize a canoe or shred it to pieces. No problem we thought, we're experienced canoe enthusiasts. We've paddled our way down much rougher rivers, how hard could it be (or so we thought). And ever since that day, we have entered faithfully every year. Some years we had disappointing results, and others, satisfactory result, but never the all mighty first place that everyone strides to achieve when entering any race. That however was all about to change.

The last year we entered we scouted the river a month in advance. Checking every rock, turn, and depth across the entire stretch of the race. We plotted which islands we would go on which side, and where we would have to get out and run because the river was to shallow to float the canoe. We spent countless weekends trying each side of the river, paddling as hard as we could to check our times. This all seemed to work really well, and would have given us a first place victory, had I not dropped a paddle half way through the race causing my partner to bail in what seemed to be the deepest part of the river. This set back dropped us from first place, to second. Since then we still continue to scout the river a month in advance of the race but with a lot more beer, and a spare canoe paddle.

This year presented some new challenges. The river was extremely shallow in several spots with a lot more treacherous terrain. Large exposed boulders with merely inches to spare between them meant tight navigation. Spots that would normally warrant heavy paddling were now no more then a foot deep with rocks hovering just below the surface. There was no way to see them until your right on top of them, which meant if we weren't careful, this year could also be our last.

In the past years the race has come down to a deciding factor of mere seconds. Hitting one of these hidden rocks could make or break any placement at the finish line. After several long and drunken trips down the river trying every scenario possible we had what we thought would be the best plan to achieve our goal. Aside from the occasional hidden rock, unavoidable thick weeds, or extreme shallow spots we should have a good chance against anyone unfamiliar with the river. The week's prior I ate like a pig to gain mass and worked out 4 times a week to prepare. Not knowing until a week before hand when the race was made it difficult to truly prepare for the event. The water level can change over night with enough rain causing all the weeks of planning worthless with changing currents and adjusting obstacles. The weather cooperated in the weeks prior to the race and thus our planning was all for not.

The day of the race was upon us. The weather was a very comfortable 71 degrees under mostly sunny skies with a slight wind of 10mph out of the north. This meant that the wind would be pushing us for most of the trip. The race was to begin at 1:00pm. Since so many people enter the race it would be impossible to send everyone down all at once.

Instead they send them down in groups of 5 with 2-minute intervals between each group. Because the river was so shallow this year my buddy and I agreed it would be best to get in the first group so we wouldn't have to worry about passing so many people during the shallows. To do this we arrived at registration 2 hours early to get a low number. This worked to our advantage and we were assigned number two. Little did we know that this would be our new lucky number. With our number in hand we headed back to my buddies house were we loaded up my canoe. A 17-foot old town with a flat bottom and built in seats, wide in the middle but made from composites to take the abuse of the river. Not your normal racing canoe, but under the circumstances of the river being so shallow we new we were going to hit some rocks, so my canoe was the best choice. At quarter after 12 we did one last check on our gear and headed out to the launch site at the start of the race. We usually arrive early in order to get in the water without fighting 20 or more other canoes and so we can size up any competition we might encounter. After setting into the water we found a quiet spot off to the side of the starting point far enough back to monitor everyone entering the river. It wasn't long before the portage was bustling with racers entering the water. Some of them experienced, and some are obvious novices. As my buddy and I sat in the cool water watching each canoeist enter the water we check to see what is ahead. Small crawfish and minnows swim next to our canoe, we watch the clock tick by and are shocked to see how many people entered this year.

12:30

"I count 15 canoes already" I said to my buddy

"1…2…I count 18" he says in response to my count.

"Damn we might have some competition this year"

We watch each canoe as it enters very carefully, measuring the size and width of the canoe with our eyes, as well as what the canoe is made out of and how the racers inside handle their canoe. So far we don't spot any Kevlar canoes, which is a great advantage in racing. For the most part I don't spot much competition except for two parties in our group, one of them being last years winners. I begin to doubt myself before the race even begins.

"What do ya thing? I ask my partner.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about."

My buddies reassurance helps to calm me down and bring back some of the confidence and moral I will need if we are going to win this thing.

"What time you got?" I ask

"20 minutes" he says

The anticipation is building and for some reason this year I actually feel nervous. Is this a prelude to what is to come? I look across the bridge, which is also the starting point, at the ever increasing number of spectators. My heart races even more.

"There" I say pointing to one of the people on the bridge "the coordinator is on the bridge we should probably move up soon"

"Yeah, lets move up next to them" my partner says pointing to an aluminum canoe in front of me stuck up against a tree so they don't start floating down river.

Our paddles dig into the sandy bottom next to the canoe, and with a couple of heaves the shore in which we were grounded upon releases its hold and we begin to float downstream towards the aluminum canoe.

"Coming along side," My partner announces to the participants in the aluminum canoe.

I feel the subtle tap as the back of our canoe bumps into theirs. With that the opposition offers his canoe paddle to me to grab onto. I grab a hold and pull myself towards their canoe so we are now parallel to each other.

"Hows it going?" I smile and nod to the guy in the front of the canoe.

"Not bad and yourself?"

"Good" I say

"This your guys first time?"

"No we enter every year," I say.

"Well be careful around those two," he says pointing across the front of my canoe to a camouflaged aluminum canoe holding last year's winners. "Last year they swamped us and cost us the race."

I nod with acknowledgment to show my appreciation for his tip.

A voice from on top the bridge bellows out "5 minutes, 5 minutes until the start of the race, numbers 1-5"

"Well this is it," I say

"Yeah I guess so"

"Good luck"

"Same to you"

With that I look back to my partner who nods his head acknowledging that it is time to get into starting position. We push off from the other canoe and position ourselves just under the edge of the bridge. My partner stabs his paddle down into the murky water-striking bottom holding our position until the whistle blows, while I keep my head down and my eyes focused on my paddle which is hovering just above the surface of the water.

My heart begins to race and I can feel each beat throughout my body.

"One minute until the race begins, 1 minute. Racers 1 through 5 line up," The coordinator announces from atop the bridge.

All five canoes now line up at the bridge, each one touching one another from the narrowness of the river. I can already tell we will be battling each other for lead while we try to break free in the first stretch.

"Counting down…10…. 9…8…7…" The coordinator begins to count down the final seconds. I bring my paddle up in front of me and let the tip of it enter the water. My muscles tense waiting the few final seconds before the whistle blows announcing the start of the race.

"5…4…3…2…1…"

On the last second I thrust my paddle back with everything I have shooting our canoe out of its holding spot. The first few feet are intense as each canoe is banging off of one another trying to gain the lead. Water splashing in from both sides as I drive my paddle in hard to try and break away from the other racers. The sound of five canoes and their paddles clashing as they echo beneath the bridge at a deafening level. At this point I don't have time to even look ahead for any obstacles, all I can do is keep paddling as hard as I can with my eyes focused on the water.

After about the first 50 feet, the canoe on our right breaks free and begins to fall back. There are only two of us battling for first position now as the other canoes follow suit behind us. Frustration sets in, as it seems like an eternity that last years winners and us are still stuck together. Our canoes stuck together as if they are glued, we can only continue to paddle on the one open side, which continues to steer both canoes into one another. The race has just begun and I hear a whistle behind us signaling the start of the second wave of racers. I begin to worry. If we don't break away soon we leave everyone behind us the perfect chance to pass us while the two of us struggle to break free. Suddenly both canoes come to a halt and I lunge forward as we hit the first low spot in the river. Without hesitation myself and the other canoes front man leap out, grabbing hold of the front end of our canoes we start sprinting as fast as we can down stream in search of deeper water. The river now dancing across my face and streaming down my glasses with each plunge of my foot into the shallow water. This may be the only chance we have to break away from one another. I push as hard as I can to pull ahead in the now foot race. I don't have time to turn and see if my partner has jumped out of the canoe with me, all I can do is keep running until the water is deep enough for the canoe to sustain itself. I look over to my left, amazingly not only have I gained a foot on our competition but we are now far enough apart that if I jump back in we can begin to paddle.

I take another glance down at my feet and see that the water is deep enough to jump in. With careful timing as not to tip the canoe, I grab hold of both sides of the canoe, still running I jump in. The canoe sways heavily from side to side as I regain my balance. A second shutter comes shortly after as I feel my partner jump in as well. I reach behind me grabbing my paddle, I waste no time jabbing it in the still shallow water.

-CRUNCH- The sound of my paddle digging into the small pebbles of the river bottom are echoed through my canoe paddle and sends a slight jolt through my arms as I use the rocks to push forward rather then paddle the water. Looking to my left I see we are still ever so slightly in the lead. My partner and I continue to paddle as hard as we can to keep our lead, but because the water is so shallow we need to pick our way along the river to keep from bottoming out once again. Unfortunately the pass to do this isn't wide enough for two canoes and it isn't long before we are once again glued to the side of our closest competitors. Our two canoes slam into one another and we begin the fight to try and separate from one another once again. Before I know what is going on, our canoe takes a hard right and was heading toward shore in an area I am not familiar with.

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask my partner

"We have no choice, it's the only way we can separate from these guys"

I reluctantly oblige and continue to paddle ahead now steering for shore. To my surprise the water here is deep enough to get in a good stroke of my paddle, and there seems to be an increasing current helping push us along near shore. When we emerge from our little detour I turn to see we are now one full canoe length in front of our competitors and going strong. Holy shit I can't believe it, my partners little sidetrack seems to have worked to our benefit rather then our demise. With them behind us I dig my paddle in as hard as I can thrusting us forward even more into the lead. My eyes now focused in front of our canoe to watch for obstacles and to navigate us back onto our normal fixed path. We keep up this strong pace for about fifteen minutes keeping an eye over my shoulder to make sure no one is gaining on us.

"Rock in front on left, steer right" I shout back to my partner. "Straight ahead, steer me towards the shore so I can pick up that current" We quickly get back into our rhythm of me navigating and my partner steering. Each stroke I relay the next directions to my partner in the back so he can safely maneuver us through the rough waters and keep us in the strong current. I glance back behind us once again to see that our lead has increased to around 50 feet and were still going strong. Our competition seems to be mimicking our every move but by the sounds of the noise and the frustration in their voices their not having the same luck avoiding the rocks. I fear that they will hold their position until the last stretch when the river gets wider then use our navigation to thier advantage to overtake us.

"You think they are following our every move to take us in the end?" I ask

"You mean pacing themselves until the last rapids?"

"Yeah!"

"Nah, once we get passed the hatchery there is no passing, whoever is in the lead will stay in the lead"

"Ok…hey looks like they are gaining"

"No there not, your seeing things" my partner says.

"Ok" I say shrugging my shoulders "Are you sure?"

"Yeah" my buddy says restoring any doubt I had of us losing the lead.

"Hey" he says "Switch sides, we need to get to the other side of shore, our first island shortcut is coming up"

With that I switch sides and begin to paddle hard to help steer the canoe. As we round the corner I can see the island. On the left is the short route but anyone looking at it would think twice. Directly in the middle, the river runs dry and you can see all the exposed rocks. Anyone in their right mind would go the other way thinking that the left side is impassable. But because we have scouted the river before hand my partner and I know that the river is actually quiet deep until the middle, which means we only need to get out and run for a short distance in order to get the canoe back in paddle-able water. We approach the left side, my eyes dart over my right shoulder to catch our competitors taking the right side. It worked I think to myself. However not for long, the group behind them can see we are gaining a lot of ground taking the left side and have started to head close to the left shore indicating they too will attempt the shortcut.

"Not yet" I announce to my partner letting him know it is not time to bail out of the canoe. If we jump to soon we waste coasting time, and tire ourselves out by running a longer distance. Seconds before we hit the rocks stopping our canoe I shout "NOW!!" with that I jump over the side and once again grab hold of the canoe and begin to sprint. This marks the half way point of the race and I begin to feel the heavy paddling up to this point taking effect on my body. My quick sprint turns into a fast walk, which quickly turns into a slow walk. My legs are wobbly and I feel like I am about to collapse. I look down to see if we can put the canoe back in the water and jump in where I can once again sit down to at least allow my legs to rest.

The water is only about five inches when I decide to take our chances and drop the canoe back into the water signaling to my partner to jump in. We both sluggishly enter the canoe, which is only slightly afloat in the shallow water. Both our paddles enter the water and dig into the rocks to push off. With one good push we are back in deep enough water to float the canoe. I look ahead to see we are now pointing directly at our next corner giving us another advantage to anyone taking the other way which will force them to put serious drag on their canoe in order to swing the tight corner and stay in the strong current.

"That’s it," I shout with enthusiasm "were half way now bud, we can do this, we have a shot to win"

Seeing the amount of distance between our closest competitor and us brings a second wind throughout my veins and I once again dig my paddle hard into the water. I begin to paddle so hard in fact that my partner shouts at me.

"Hey, you're doing the steering now"

"Ok!!" I shout back.

Knowing this I can better anticipate our next move and keep us on track leaving the quick short turns around obstacles to my partner. This works well and we keep about the same distance from any competition. Shouts and bangs from behind us assure me even more that our lead will not be compromised.

-SPLASH-SPLASH-SPLASH-

The sounds of footsteps running through the water sends a slight smile to my face knowing that the someone has just bottomed out and has had to get out and run. At this point in the race, the last thing you want to do is get out and carry a 75 pound plus canoe through the water.

We're now three quarters of the way through the race, my arms are like rubber. My left thumb is throbbing with pain. I glance down to notice that the canoe paddle has created a large blister between my thumb and index finger and the constant rubbing from the paddle has already busted it open and torn the flesh completely away exposing a large red raw piece of flesh. My stomach is nauseous and I feel as if I am going to vomit. My mouth gummy and throat dry as I search for any sign of moisture inside my mouth to wet my cracking lips. It's no use; any moisture I had inside my body has already been expelled throughout my pours as sweat. I can feel dehydration setting in as I splash some water across my face to cool me down. I can't give up now I think to myself. The finish is just around the corner.

It is now 40 minutes past the hour in which the race started. My entire body is weak and every other stroke of my canoe paddle is lifeless. Ahead I see the last major corner before the finish. A third wind kicks in and I try my hardest to paddle. Maneuvering around the last few boulders we round the corner and I can see the bridge signifying the finish line. Littered across the top of the bridge and below along the shorelines are spectators. Cheers erupt as they see us come around the corner. Shouts of encouragement begin to head our way. A burst of adrenaline shoots through my body and I reach down deep to muster every last bit of energy I have to paddle hard. (Well that and to look good in front of the pretty ladies) Stroke after stroke we shorten the distance between the finish line and us.

"What's your number?" someone hollers from the bridge.

"2" I yell back

Seconds later applause comes across the crowd as we glide underneath the bridge ending our journey for this year. My partner and I bring our canoe into shore just beyond the bridge and exit the canoe. With whatever strength we have left we hoist the canoe onto shore. We stand there for a moment, looking at each other our hands set on our knees breathing heavy. Our bodies shaking from the last hour of physical punishment we put our bodies through. A huge smile crosses our face as we begin to realize we just might have won this thing this year. We won't know for sure until all the times from each group are tallied, but deep down we know we did pretty damn good. We didn't swamp the canoe twice (first year) we didn't lose to a Kevlar canoe (second year) we didn't drop a canoe paddle and have to stop to get it (third year) we just busted our ass, and for that we're proud. Moments later the second canoe crosses the finish line. My partner and I enter the river once more to help the other racers bring their canoes in. The rugged cool water that fought us the entire way now sweeps between our legs relaxing our tired muscles and cooling us off.

After sharing stories with other racers and listening to the problems they had we venture up to the bar were the results will soon be read. My partner grabs a spot at a table and I head up to the bar to order us a beer. I sit down on a stool, my body still aching, and light up a cigar. My partner and I begin to reminisce about the trip, retracing each step in detail, complementing each other of our decisions down the river . The bar quickly begins to fill with racers all of them carrying their own tale, some of them wet from head to toe from swamping their canoe, others bruised and battered from the ride.

The coordinator soon comes in with his clipboard signaling that all racers have crossed the finish line. He swings in behind the bar and pulls out the trophies. Is this the year? Is this the year our hard work finally pays off? In the next few minutes we will find out. The bar goes quiet as he scans his clipboard.

With the anticipation building I start going over each fault we made during the race wondering if any of them will be a deciding factor in our victory.

"Whose number 2?" The coordinator shouts from behind the bar.

"We are," I say standing up waving my hand in the air.

"You guys placed first, congratulations!"

And with that the entire bar begins to applause us as I walk up to accept our trophies. Finally after 5 years of hard work, scouting and exercise, my buddy and I hold the title for 2005. A big weight is lifted off of my shoulders and I have a grin from ear to ear for the next 4 hours. I turn and hold up our trophies to show everyone in the bar and head back to our table to hand my partner his trophy. It may be a silly canoe race to most people, but for us, it was a lot more then that.

Will we keep the title next year? I don't know and I don't care, all I know is this year, we were the best, and frankly that’s all that matters to me right now.

This is my proudest post thus far

Assume nothing Part II

Originally posted Thursday, August 11, 2005

My second orientation is scheduled for 3:00pm. Perfect, that gives me two hours before we close to take care of the new student, this should be more then enough time.

4:00pm, still no word from the administration team as to where my new student is.

4:10pm, I see one of the administration personnel walking into the conference room with someone. Ah this must be my new student, and running a little late I see. This is going to be cutting it awfully close to my beer time.

Finally at 4:30 the administrations person walks out of the room and heads my way.

“Can you do the orientation?” he says “ I know its late sorry but the student was late”

“Yeah, I guess so”

“ok thanks, it should be an easy one, he is just taking one course of the entire MOS certification”

“Ok cool, anything else I need to know?” I ask.

“Ummmm….. no, that should do it” He strides off to the office collecting his belongings to head home. Must be nice to go home early. I enter the conference room and my new student continues to stare straight ahead. Hmmm…..is he trying to intimidate me? I sit down in front of him and introduce myself as his new teacher.

“Welcome to our facility” I say with a smile.

“Hi, I want to start off by saying I am legally blind, so I can’t see anything you are pointing at or referring to.”

“Ah….uh huh, well then” this would explain the blank stare I am getting. When I asked the administration person if there was anything else I should know, this would have been an excellent point to bring up. I guess he assumed it was not something I needed to know before hand. At this point I begin to talk very loud, almost to the point that my voice is echoing throughout the small room.
“SO YOUR TAKING THE MICROSOFT ACCESS COURSE?” Why am I shouting, he never said he was deaf. I try to lower my voice without being to obvious of what an ignorant ass I am at his handicap. He just continues to stare straight ahead, a quiet smirk on his face as if to say to me “damn ignorant fool”

“Yes I am, and you don’t need to shout, I can hear you fine” he explains.

“OH…..AH, I didn’t realize I was shouting” Trying to hide my ignorance. At this point I make direct eye contact with him and speak very slowly as if he can read my lips. Again, what the hell am I doing, he isn’t deaf, he’s blind!

“Are you ok?” he asks “you sound a bit frustrated”

“I’m fine thank you,” I tell him trying to conduct myself in a professional matter without making anymore of a fool out of me.

“You know it’s alright, I get this a lot from people who don’t understand my handicap” he tells me. With this I begin to make faces at him and gestures that are best left out of this text for younger viewing audiences. Not even so much as a flinch, wow, I guess he really is blind, either that or I will have a pink slip waiting on my desk when I return. * Quick scan around room making sure they haven’t slipped any of those damn cameras in here *

I glance up at the clock on the wall –Tick, tock, tick, tock- “Well since your blind, no sense in going over any of the paperwork as you can’t read it anyway. I’m sure when you get home you can have someone read it out loud to you” Did I just actually tell a blind person there is no reason to waste my time in reading through a bunch of material he can’t see in the first place? Yep, I’m going to hell. I move on to how he needs to log into our system to access his course materials.

“Ok, so what you see on the screen here is the same thing you will see…..at……home” I slap my hand across my forehead “well never mind about that you can’t see that either” Damn this might be the shortest orientation yet. “All right enough of this, how in the hell are you going to take a course you can’t even read the book for?” I ask

“I have someone that reads it to me.” He chuckles

“And what about the test?” I demand

“They come with me for that to, and read the questions to me and the possible answers, I then give them the answer I want selected and they choose it”

“Well that’s not allowed” I say “You can’t have someone else in the room with you, they could be giving you the answers for gods sakes”

He begins to laugh hysterically at my ignorance “The state sends someone over that is certified to give the test for disabled people such as myself. Who did you think I would bring, my sister?” He continues to laugh.

“Yes……well…….anyway” With a sheepish look on my face I hand him his book. (Just for fun I keep pulling it away just before he can grab it.) and send him on his way.
I help him out the door and towards the front desk where the director meets me.

“New student?” he asks me

I nod my head without saying a word, and slide up next to the director. Quietly I whisper into his ear “yeah, but he is 90% deaf, so if you are going to introduce yourself you need to speak up in order for him to hear you”

He looks back at me and whispers, “but isn’t that rude?”

“No” I say “I thought that to, but he totally expects it, otherwise he won’t hear you at all”

The director walks up beside the new student, lowers his head to his ear and begins to shout at a deafening level “WELCOME TO OUR FACILITY”

The student startled beyond belief stagers backwards clutching onto the desk to keep him from falling, with a wave of his hand he continues on with a look of fear as if he is expecting more. His hands trembling down the side of the desk and across the wall searching feverishly for the door handle to exit as quickly as possible before something else happens.

“Did I say something wrong?” The director asks looking back at me.

“Dunno, maybe” I say

“hmmmm, odd fellow, he seemed to just look right through me rather than at me, and did you see how he was running his hands all over everything like that?”

“Yep” I say “Bet he was looking to steal something until you startled him”

“Yes……yes, keep an eye on that one, he might be using that disability excuse to rob us blind.” he says squinting one eye.

“Well you got half of it right.”

I have nothing more to say!

Assume nothing Part I

Originally posted Saturday, August 06, 2005

I have two orientations today, and since I have only done this a limited number of times each one bringing about its own little twists and turns this should make for an interesting day. My first unsuspecting victim/student rolls in around 11:00am, and once the admissions person is through with them they are handed off to me.

“Muhaha!!!”

“And this is your teacher, he’s going to walk you through your course and explain everything else.” The admissions person says as he heads out the door of the small meeting room.

The room rectangular in shape measures about 5 by 7 foot with a small dark window at the far end, a desk in the middle of the room and a chair on each side of the desk. Last I checked, this seems awfully close to the dimensions and attributes of your average interrogation room…….or so I think last time I watched Cops………ok fine, so I’ve seen my fair share of police brutality, I mean interrogation rooms.

Anyway, above us is a florescent light flickering on and off with the sounds of a crackling electrical outlet as it tries desperately to stay lit causing our shadows to dance across the walls with each flash. I slide my chair closer to the desk, grabbing some nearby papers I begin to shuffle them in an obscure matter while squinting one eye across the table at the victim/student. He sits there quiet, hands folded in front of him, his face looking that of a wounded zebra moments before the lion attacks.

With a loud “ehhhh……hemmmm” I clear my throat, grabing the attention of the studentas he arches his back and sits at attention.

“So” I say “you’re here to take the MOS training course”

“Yes….yes I am….” He replies “my ah, job is requiring me to become a certified expert in MOS”

“Really?” I shoot a puzzled look across the table. Confused as to why any business would want someone to become an expert certified Microsoft office products person is beyond me. I shrug my shoulders “well ok if that’s what they want”.

Now comes the boring part. I begin to go over all of our policies and procedures with the student as they try not to fall asleep. Once this is complete I have them read a few things over to make sure they understand everything, then lots of signing of meaningless paperwork which I have added a few pages of my own way in the back with very small print as so no one can make out what it says. Its been so long since I wrote them I forgot what they even say, something about, “I will not ask my teacher questions” and “I hereby give my teacher full ownership of my sole upon my death” you know, stuff like that. It assures that there is a full understanding between the teacher and the student.

“So while you look all this over I am going to go print out your course guide and get your books” I say pushing the paperwork across the table at him before standing up and heading out the door locking it behind me watching as he signs his life away. Memories of similiar dark obscure room come to mind as I remember a man pushing paperwork at me before walking out of a similar room.

“Now sign this confession and we’ll go easy on ya!!”

I shake my head ending the Scooby Doo like trance “Ah good times….good times” I say to myself as I trot back to my desk and begin scrolling through endless courses on my computer screen. “hmmm…..that’s odd” I say while rubbing my hand under my chin. “I can’t seem to find any information on the course this student has signed up for.”

Several more minutes go by and I still can’t find anything. I glance over my shoulder at the two way mirror that sits between myself and the student in the next room (when did they install that? I need to stay awake more during the week) to notice he is quickly getting bored, and starting to fiddle with his restraints…..errrrr school swag wrist bands. I send out a quick instant message to one of our sister schools asking if they know anything about the MOS expert course.

Tap….tap….tap…. “Why can’t I find the course material for the expert MOS course?”
My computer beeps as a message is sent back to me from another teacher, “Because we don’t offer that course, we only offer the core part of the course, they have to go somewhere else to get the expert course.”

TAP…..TAP……TAP……”GREAT, I have a student who was just admitted for the expert course”
Beep…..beep….. “That’s funny, looks like you have an issue with your admissions personnel.”

TAP….TAP….TAP….. “Funny? There is nothing funny about it”

Beep….beep…. “LOL, Yeah it happens all the time I’m just glad it happened to you instead of me this time”

-Note to self- record incoming ip address from Instant message program for later use on spam server. (Now that’s funny)

I head back to the room opening the door just enough to peak my head in, “It will be just a few more minutes” I say with a huge cheesy smile on my face.

I lock the door behind me once again, wouldn’t want a costumer to escape before paying, and head down the hall to the admissions office looking for some answers. With my teeth clenched tightly together I ask, “Would one of you like to explain to me what course you signed the new student up for?”

“Yeah…..” a voice pipes up from the corner of the room. “I signed him up for the expert MOS course”

“Yeah, and did you bother to check to see if we even offer that course?” I ask finger nails now digging into the palm of my hands as I begin to make angry fists.

The admissions person seeing my degree of anger grabs his shirt collar and begins to loosen it up “well, ah….we offer the core so I assumed…….”.

“YOU ASSUMED WRONG!!!!” I interrupt “we ONLY offer the core, and have never offered the expert course.”

“huh….that’s interesting” he says now whipping the sweat that is running down his forehead. The director pops up behind me from out of no where. (How does he keep doing that?)

“What’s going on out here?” He says, arms perched on both sides of his hips.
I begin to go into a long-winded explanation about the situation while he nods and scratches his head trying to keep up with everything I am saying.

“……so now I have a student sitting in the conference room awaiting my return with his materials and the expert course guide which we don’t have” I say inhaling deeply trying to catch my breathe.

The director stands there for a moment in his serious pose before saying “Well then, do some research and find out what books we need for that course, then go about ordering them so we can keep him as a student. Until then give him the core books and tell him he will need to take those courses before he can take the expert course, this will buy the time needed to get the other books, plus he will be purchasing another course from us which means more money in our pocket.” And with that he turns and heads back to his office.

So now, not only do I have to lie to the student on behalf of my admissions specialist team but I also have to fix their problem by getting the material we don’t have for a course we never offered. I turn around to face the admissions person as he is trying to quietly escape out the door before I can notice.
With a sharp jab from my elbow to his ribs I make my way past him through the door, ignoring his pathetic attempt to apologize and assure me it won’t happen again.
All I can do is hope that the next orientation will go better.

To be continued…