Thursday, April 2, 2020

Story 335: Professional High School Student


            (In a high school guidance counselor’s office)
            Guidance Counselor: (Reviewing a college’s application requirements on its Web site) Don’t know whether they’re expecting too much from our youth or our youth expect too little from themselves – almost makes one long for a dictatorship so we can focus our disappointment on that instead.  (There is a knock on the door) Yeah, come in.
            Administrative Assistant: (Peeks head into the room) Hi – your 1:00 is here.
          Guidance Counselor: (Hurriedly looks at watch) Already?  Well, this day is just lost – send `em in.  (The door opens wider to let in a student as Guidance Counselor stands) Hi!  Thanks for meeting with me today – please sit down.
           Student: (Sits at the same time as Guidance Counselor) Thanks for scheduling this after my lunch period – especially today, I hope it means I don’t have to make up the debate that’s going on right now.
            Guidance Counselor: Yes, about that –
            Student: Oh no, am I failing Debate?!
            Guidance Counselor: Quite frankly, yes.  But I think you knew that already.
            Student: This is the first I’m hearing about it!  I can’t believe this!
            Guidance Counselor: …You see, I would empathize, if this was the first time you were failing Debate.  But it isn’t: you already have failed it.  Five times, as a matter of fact.
            Student: Oh.  Has it been five times?  I don’t remember stuff like that.
          Guidance Counselor: Or much else, apparently.  (Drops several bursting file folders onto the desk) My predecessor gave me the heads-up before retirement that you have yet to pass a single course in your senior year.
            Student: Aw gee, that’s too bad.
            Guidance Counselor: It certainly is, since you’ve been in the 12th grade for the past 10 years.
            Student: Ooh, you mean I hit a decade?  Sweet.
          Guidance Counselor: I’m frankly flabbergasted that you weren’t forcibly graduated after the second year of this, just to get you out of here – you know you’re now older that several of your teachers, yes?
            Student: Age means nothing to me; I still treat them with the same respect as I do any of my tenured elders.
            Guidance Counselor: That’s admirable of you, but missing the point: you shouldn’t be here anymore.
            Student: Why not?  Clearly I still don’t have a good grasp of the material.
          Guidance Counselor: And yet you’ve never requested after-school help, or gotten a private tutor, or even picked easier electives!
            Student: If it’s easy, then how will I learn anything?
        Guidance Counselor (Opens a smaller file folder) What baffles me in the whole situation is this: (Hands the folder to Student) This one folder encompasses your records from Grades 9 to 11 at this school.  (Student slowly turns the pages in the folder) Three whole years!  And you were doing just fine!  Not brilliant, but at least passing!
            Student: Amazing.
            Guidance Counselor: That’s not the word for it!
           Student: No, I mean it’s amazing that all this is still on paper – doesn’t everything have to be entered into a database by now?
           Guidance Counselor: Don’t get me started on that.  (Snatches back the folder) Now.  (Holds up the folder in one hand and slams the other hand onto the piles of bursting file folders) Care to explain?
            Student: I should think it explains itself: I’m a bad student.
         Guidance Counselor: No!  (Slams the smaller file folder down onto the desk and points at Student) No, no, no!  You clearly were not a bad student up until the end of your junior year, your home life is decent, the students in all the grades love you, I snooped around and saw that nothing horrifically horrible has happened to you, and you’re in almost every extracurricular activity we have going on here, so this – (Slams hand again on the bursting file folders) is deliberate!
            Student; You snooped on me?!
           Guidance Counselor: Don’t deflect on a moral/legal point – why are you continually failing the 12th grade on purpose?!
            Student: (Slumps in the chair in defeat and sighs dramatically) Because I don’t want it to end.
            Guidance Counselor: How’s that?
          Student: I know what’s coming, all right?  The pointless struggle, the escalating stress, the regrets, the feeling that you’re never good enough, the imposter syndrome when you actually are good enough, and the neverending fear of failure, if you’re lucky; the actual feeling of failure for pretty much everyone else.
            Guidance Counselor: You’re failing now!
            Student: Yeah, but that’s on my terms.
          Guidance Counselor: So, what, you’re afraid to go on to college?  You have other options, you know.
            Student: It’s not that – it’s this.  (Waves arms around the room)
            Guidance Counselor: You’re afraid of school?
           Student: No-no, I love school.  That’s the problem: I love the routine, going to class, hanging out with my friends, working on projects, playing sports, going to competitions, feeling like I’m somebody here.  But once we graduate, it’s all over.  Everyone scatters to the four winds to start their adult lives, few of us are ever going to see each other again, and the time is never as special as it was here.  Well, I refuse to join the ranks of the eternally disappointed, you hear me?!  So, I’m staying here forever instead.
            Guidance Counselor: But your classmates graduate every year, so you’re still never going to see them again.
            Student: Not every year: I figured out the third time around that if I make closer friends with them as freshmen, I get all four years outta them as if we were in the same grade.
            Guidance Counselor: I feel for you, I really do, but you can’t live like this.
           Student: Why not?  My parents actually like me staying at home, I have an after-school job that pays the bills, the only one this is hurting is the school’s stats, but I’m just one student out of hundreds of thousands so really, who cares?
            Guidance Counselor: But you can’t be happy flunking for the rest of your life!
            Student: It’s actually gotten to be kind of fun, so your argument’s fallacious.
            Guidance Counselor: Aha!  So you should be passing Debate after all!
          Student: (Shrugs) Eh: take the same class for six years, you’re bound to pick up something.
         Guidance Counselor: (Types on the computer) I’m entering a recommendation that you be graduated at the end of this year due to time served.
            Student: (Sits up) WHAT?!
          Guidance Counselor: I also need a full-time assistant, since the student size has doubled since you originally started your career here – if you take courses in school counseling, you can stay here and work with students for the rest of your days, and never ever have to leave.
            Student: (Slumps again) I guess I should’ve known the dream had to end one day – that’s life for you.
            Guidance Counselor: See?  And you didn’t even have to graduate to experience that.

Thursday, March 26, 2020

Story 334: Out Past Curfew


            (In the lobby of a restaurant)
           Friend 1: … and so I said, “Too bad for you, should’ve bought 20 rolls like I did when you had the chance, sucker!”
            Friend 2: That’s… not funny.
            Friend 1: Yeah, they didn’t think so either.
            (A restaurant employee emerges from the kitchen with packages and hands them to Friends 1 and 2)
           Employee: (Voice muffled by a face shield and mask) Here you go – sorry for the wait, I know you have to get home soon.
            Friend 2: That’s all ri –
            Friend 1: Darn tootin’-thanks-bye!  (Grabs both packages, runs out the door, and starts the car as Friend 2 gets in)
            Friend 2: That was a bit rude.
          Friend 1: (Reverses out of the parking spot at high speed and peels out of the lot) Curfews know no manners!
            Friend 2: What?  And anyway, you’re the one who took forever to pick a place to order from; I could’ve just made us something in half the time!
           Friend 1: (Bites into a sandwich while swerving off the highway onto a side street) Not this deliciously fried, you couldn’t.  `Sides, we’ve got plenty of – (Glances at the clock radio) um, let me speed this up a little.  (Floors the accelerator more)
            Friend 2: Slow down, you’re gonna get us into an accident!
           Friend 1: (Gripping the steering wheel, hunched forward, eyes blazing) I’ve never been in an accident in my entire life!
            Friend 2: Really?  That’s pretty impressive.
           Friend 1: Thank you.  (Sees railroad crossing lights flash up ahead and the gates start to lower) Oh no you don’t!  (Accelerates faster)
            Friend 2: Slow down!
            Friend 1: We’ll make it!
            Friend 2: Slow down right now!
           Friend 1: I SAID WE’LL MAKE IT!  Oh never mind, they’re down.  (Slams on the brakes; both occupants lurch forward as the car’s front bumper kisses the gate)
            Friend 2: That was too close.
            Friend 1: Nonsense – if it’d been a grenade, then that would’ve been too close.  (Peers over the steering wheel to look up and down the tracks) Ugh, hate this crossing; train’s probably still at the station and we’re stuck waiting half a mile away when we could’ve kept going until it started moving again.  (Looks both ways again, then slowly starts to swerve around the gate) Let’s see….
            Friend 2: (Grabs the steering wheel to swerve the car back) Don’t you dare!  (The train passes them noisily) See!
            Friend 1: Sneaky little scamp.  (The gates lift and Friend 1 accelerates at high speed, pointing at the clock radio) Look at that!  Way late, all because of a stupid train!
            Friend 2: Not really that late; I doubt – (Sees flashing lights in the rearview mirror) Uh-oh.
          Friend 1: (Looks in the rearview mirror) Oh come on!  I’ve never been pulled over in my entire life!
            Friend 2: Now I know you’re lying.
            Friend 1: You’re just jealous.
            (They pull over and wait for the police officers to approach)
            Police Officer: License and registration.
            Friend 1: Here you go.  (Places them in the Police Officer’s gloved hand)
            Police Officer: (Gives them to partner to check) You know you two are out past curfew?
          Friend 1: Oh yes, Officer, but you see – (Uses two fingers to pull a badge out from a coat pocket and hand it over) I work at a hospital.
            Police Officer: (Examining badge) Well then, let us give you an escort there.
            Friend 1: Oh, that’s not – (Friend 2 pinches Friend 1’s arm) toooo inconvenient for you?
        Police Officer: Not at all; it’s in the area.  (Partner hands back the license and registration and whispers in the other’s ear; Police Officer hands them back to Friend 1) Congratulations on never having had an accident or being pulled over before, by the way.
           Friend 1: Awesome.  (Waits for them to get back into their car before slowly driving back onto the main road)
            Friend 2: Why didn’t you just tell them we got stuck with the food and the train?
            Friend 1: That’s too convoluted; it sounds shady.
            Friend 2: Still, I can’t believe you just lied TO THE POLICE!
            Friend 1: I didn’t lie!  I do work at the hospital.
            Friend 2: You work days!  In Admitting!
            Friend 1: Don’t be a snob; we’re all part of the same team.
            Friend 2: Whatever; you still weren’t on your way to work now!
           Friend 1: Is it my fault they took it that way?  We’ll just have to go inside for 10 minutes or so, and if we get stopped again we can say we just ended our shift there.
            Friend 2: You can say whatever you want; I’m your hostage right now, so maybe I’ll say that.
            Friend 1: If it pleases you.
            (They park in the hospital lot and meet the police officers at the entrance)
            Police Officer: (To Friend 1) So, which department do you work in?
            Friend 1: Admitting… in the Emergency Department.
            Police Officer: Oh good, that’s right here.
            Friend 1: Indeed it is.
           Friend 2: (Muttering to Friend 1) Can you admit me right now?  What am I gonna tell them, that I’m just gonna sit here for eight hours until your shift ends?!
            Friend 1: You’re a very dedicated friend.
            (They enter and approach the front desk)
            Welcome Ambassador: (To Friend 1) Oh hey, what are you doing here at this time of –
            Friend 1: Yeah that’s great see ya!  (Uses badge to enter the Emergency Department; the other three wait at those doors while Friend 1 rushes ahead to one of the physicians at the main desk) Hey doc, really quick –
            Physician: Oh hey, what are you doing here at this time of –
           Friend 1: No time for that: got stuck out past curfew, can you tell those two cops over there that I didn’t have to come in tonight?
            Physician: But you don’t work in this department.
            Friend 1: (Through gritted teeth) Doc!
           Physician: Oh, gotcha.  (They walk over to the other three) Hello, I was just telling this team member they didn’t have to come in tonight.
            Friend 1: Aw nuts, and I got pulled over and everything!
            Police Officer: Too bad about the wasted trip.  You live far away from here?
            Friend 1: Less than 10 minutes.
            Physician: Wow.  I commute almost an hour each way.
          Police Officer: We appreciate everything you do, Doctor.  (To Friend 1) You shouldn’t get stopped again, but give them my badge number to call me if you do on the way home; we have to get back to our rounds.  (To Friend 2) You two live together?
            Friend 2: I guess tonight we do.
            Police Officer: Smart move.
            (All four walk back to the parking lot and drive away in their respective cars)
            Friend 2: I can’t believe you asked that nice doctor to lie for you.
          Friend 1: It was not a lie, how many times do I have to – (Loud noise as the right rear tire blows out) Oh for the love of Peter and Paul!
            (They pull over and both get out of the car; Friend 1 kicks the flat tire a few times)
            Friend 2: Don’t you have a spare?
            Friend 1: This is the spare!
            Friend 2: You really are hopeless.
            Friend 1: (Trying cell phone) And of course the battery’s dead!
            Friend 2: You have a charger?
          Friend 1: At home, because we weren’t going to be out this late!  Can I use your phone?
            Friend 2: I… forgot to bring it.
           Friend 1: Well that’s a set of conveniently inconvenient circumstances!  (Turns to the nearest house and walks up the front steps; no lights are on, inside or outside)
          Friend 2: (Scrambling up the steps behind Friend 1) What are you doing?!  It could be the plague house in there!
            Friend 1: (Bangs on the front door) I don’t see a giant red cross on the door, do you?
            Friend 2: Fine; then they could just be plain old psychopaths.
            Friend 1: Nothing ventured!
            (The door opens)
            Occupant: (Stares at them warily from the darkened interior) What’s the password?
            Friend 1: What?
          Occupant: Eh – close enough.  (Drags them both inside, kicks the door closed, and shoves them down the basement stairs; they stop midway and see a brightly lit rave is being held there)
            Friend 2: What on Earth is this?!
          Occupant: (Rushes past them to grab drinks from the DJ playing at a bar) Welcome to the party, dudes!  We’re not letting The Man tell us not to gather in groups of 10 or more!
            Group of More Than 10: No, sir!
            Occupant: (Holds out two drinks to Friends 1 and 2) Shots?
         Friend 1: While I admire your spirit and sense of hospitality, we’ll just enjoy your public statement from our spot way over here.  (To Friend 2) Got a ruler on you?  I can’t tell how far away 6 feet is.
            Friend 2: (Holding one hand over mouth and nose) Not far enough away from you!  (Turns to run upstairs right as the front door bursts open; a figure in a hazmat suit appears at the top of the stairs)
            Hazmat Suit 1: Police!  This is a stupid-people raid!
            Group of More Than 10: Aaahhh!!!  It’s The Man!
         (A loud record scratch is heard as everyone below lunges for the tiny basement windows to crawl out; more police in hazmat suits run past Friends 1 and 2 to corral the partygoers)
            Occupant: (Hauled away while still holding the shot glasses) Cool, this really is The Roaring 20s all over again.
            (Friends 1’s and 2’s shoulders each get a hazmat glove clamped on them)
            Hazmat Suit 2: You’re coming with us.
            Friend 1: Is it to the hospital?  (Pulls out badge) `Cause I work there –
            Friend 2: Oh knock it off!
            (In the back of a squad car, Friends 1 and 2 sit on plastic sheeting and are wearing masks)
            Friend 1: You think they’ll let me call a mechanic to fix my tire by the time they let us out?  (Friend 2 glares) Just saying, could’ve had it done by now if you’d brought your phone.
            Friend 2: Don’t breathe in my direction.  (Turns away to stare out the window)
            Friend 1: (Turns to stare out the other window) This is the worst birthday ever.