I Glorify Myself in Young Men's Tears

Today, a milestone has been set, and as I write this, it is the end of a very long first day that started with me teaching my first class at UNT as a teaching fellowship professor. While many would have been content to only get through the first day without too many problems, I am not one of those conventional people who hope for the bare minimum. And my day exceed my wildest dream for many different reasons. However, as the witching hour is now in full swing, I will make this somewhat short and sweet... two adjectives that are used with me often; usually with other, more explicit, terms either preceding or quickly following.

Woke up early -6:40- after having a fitful night of sleep, where I awoke many times from odd dreams. Guess it was nerves, but can't really say for sure. Anyways, got to my 8am class early, and handed out the syllabi to those who were already there, and then made the rest of the students pick one up as they shambled like zombies past me towards their seats.

I did the usual speel, reading through the syllabus, telling them not to cheat, and also the absentee policy. It's the established norm, so why mess with a good thing. After this, I had them do a writing assessment using a quote from Nietzsche: "There can be no feast, without first a slaughter."

I told the entire class that once this was done, they could leave for the day. So, I made a mental note to stop them in ten minutes, and spaced out. Nine minutes after they had started writing, at 8:25, another freshman student walked into my classroom. I asked him if he was here for my Rhet Comp class, and when he affirmed gave him a syllabus. One minute later, I told the entire class that they should stop writing; hand in their papers; and to have a good one.

Accordingly, the student who came in had written one sentence, and it wasn't even a good one. I then told him, that if he ever planned to come in that late again, that he should not worry about coming to class at all that day, and made him hand in his paper, too. At this point, the kid started getting teary eyed and squeaked out, "But this class will affect my GPA."

I responded, some might say harshly, however I feel appropriately, with "Yes, it will. Now turn in your paper." Then took his paper, and left the class.

Nothing of interest happened in the second class at 9am. I let them out at roughly the same time as the class before (about 30 minutes in) but stuck around in the classroom, to look over the assessments. A freshman student strolled into the classroom at 9:40, and I asked her if she was suppose to be there for my 9 O'clock class. She, I believe, said yes. So I lecturing her too, telling her that if she's going to be this late to a class, that she, in my opinion, wasn't here at all, and there's no point to be showing up to my class; and it'd also better not happen again.

Turns out she's not in my class; she showed up 20 minutes early for the 10am class in that room. So I quickly appologized to her, told her what had happened not an hour earlier, and thankfully, she laughed off the lecture.

It's funny, now that the day has finished and I'm able to look back with at least a little perspective, I wasn't at all nervous while standing in front of the classroom, and really enjoyed my first day. And boy, I have to tell you, I sadly reveled in making a student cry (I count glassy-eyedness as crying)... and, I being the deplorable person that I am, have also told quite a few people about the shock I but this poor bastard through on both his and my first day. Oh well, I bet if he's still in my class on Monday, he's there early.

And though some believe that my being a hardass wasn't helpful to the situation, I felt that my authority needed to be established quickly, and was really not willing to allow a student to show up 25 minutes late to one of my classes. It's much easier to loosen up (THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID) as the semester goes along than to keep trying to grab for that elusive authority halfway through a semester, an authority that you never had to began with, since you didn't established the power/authority situation with your students early in the semester. And now that I've tasted the sweet sweet sugary power of authority, I want more... if need be, I'll become the Prince that Machiavelli spoke of, to rule this kingdom that I have commanded over for one day from 8-8:50 and 9-9:50! I really should put above the door to my classroom Abandon hope, all ye who enter here... and to end with one more literary allusion, Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven... bitches.

Eating a Tostada is tough

Before we even start the title comes from something I said to my friend Skyler while we were at lunch today, and I thought that I would share the wealth of my quote with the world... or the friends who actually follow this blog.... so to be perfectly honest: with myself because no one else reads this, but nonetheless, it's out there now, and available for the masses.

On Friday a bunch of the TFs met at lunch for the first time. To be honest, it just re-enforced my misanthropic nature towards humankind. While I stole this line from Nick (we might have actually come up with it together, but I'll give it to him anyways), it still applies: “I like persons, but really do hate people.” It just seems to me that that people in this day and age don't desire to do well in their job, instead they foster a lackadaisical paradigm, that, I feel, causes a rippling effect that can be felt throughout the entire community; meaning in this particular case both instructors and students. I'll stop speaking in metaphorical terms and spell it straight out. More than half of the table had not started their syllabi yet, and weren't even stressed about it!

I had already finished working on my syllabus by this point, and had been working on it for at least two weeks prior. Their lack of stress about something that's going to be affecting them for the next 16 weeks left me agog with uninterest in them... maybe a little judgmental on my part, but nonetheless, judgment has been done and placed solely on their heads. And while they might not talk the same way in front of their superiors, I am their colleague and am not easily swayed to re-evaluate persons once I have judged them, and judge harshly I did.

Also, there was a girl there who I had taken a class with my first semester at UNT; whom at first I couldn’t place, but placed she quickly was. Now while I could tell you her name, if I could remember it, I'd rather just use the nickname that I gave her: 2 cents harpy... or ch2 for short. Why ch2? Well, the name's pretty self-explanatory, besides I'm not that smart, so ch2 is what it was and is. However I'll explain a little further, and give a quick overview of the orientation day, and then we (you being the reader and me being the writer binds us together to form a 'we') will be done.

At first I couldn't quite place her, because she reminded me of another ch2 from UTA, but oh how the memories quickly come back when annoying comes your way. I really don't have the writing skills to express what she does that annoys me so much, it's just the fact that whenever anyone else says anything, she wants to put her two cents in, no matter it's relevance or usually ‘un’ for her. And though she might do this as a means of encouraging her fellow speak, with a "No kidding," or "Yeah, totally," it soon becomes an annoying occurrence that cannot be stopped and must be tuned out.

So at the lunch on Friday, one ear learned to have selective hearing, while my other ear was turned to another woman I've known since my first semester here by the name of Jessica, who I find to be a good conversationalist, and a person who I have a friendly rapport with, even though I haven't spoken too much to her. Accordingly, I joked around with Jessica, and also a friend of hers, for most of the lunch and didn't turn my head the other way unless address by the chick who was sitting beside me.

Fast-forward to Monday, the day that is only part 1 of my orientation (part 2 is Tuesday). I walk in; sit down, and as per usual, someone I can't stand ends up sitting next to me. And guess who that someone is: ch2. And today she has a retort to everything the instructor is saying... and I just want to turn to her and ask, "Can't you just shut up every once in a while?" Now, to be honest, she wasn't nearly as annoying as I'm creating her to be, and I did learn quite a bit during the orientation, but she was a distraction to me throughout the 4 hours there, and I did notice, much to my own chagrin, that when she spoke I did hear her... much in the same way that one hears a leaking faucet. It's in the background, only slightly noticeable, but after a time, becomes quite annoying. Actually that might be a better nickname that 2 cents harpy, and much more original! So Harpy she once was, and Leaky she now is... however I'm not going to combine the two, because then she'd be a Leaky Harpy. And that's just gross.

Day 1

Lets start with the beginning, and explore what has now come to be called The Meeting of the Dunces that was my moving day.

It starts off all well and good: I woke at 7:30 and got a shower, and then awoke my father at 8, so we could go get the Uhaul. Now, while finding the guy who was renting the uhaul was a little annoying, and I had to call so he could tell me where he was at in a huge office building, when it was all said and done, it wasn't too unpleasant. And even though he screwed me out of 1/4 a tank of gas, because he said that the uhaul had 3/4ths of a tank when in actuality it only had ½ (not bitter about that at all), if that was the only thing that I could bitch about, then, I would consider myself a happy camper... this is not the case.

We got the Uhaul loaded with some drama, but it did get finished; when all said and done; it was pretty full, but we could have loaded more in if we had needed to. Then we (the family) had to wait for 11 o'clock to roll around, because I was called the Thursday before, and told that I couldn't pick up my keys until noon.

The road trip wasn't too eventful. We did have to stop once, because somehow my parent's hood decided to come unlatched and it was vibrating along with the music and really freaking my parents out. And then even though the caravan of car (me in the Uhaul, and Nick in the Camry) were behind them, they decided to stop in the fire lane at a local library in fort worth to fix it, instead of going into the actual parking lot, and letting us easily turn into the library parking lot with them... this was still not too bad.

The move in was relatively easy, and my buddy Ryan, whose place I can walk to in 2 minutes, came over and helped us out. My Mom unpacked all the boxes, while the men did the heavily lifting.... insert sexist comment here.

Nick told me at some point during us passing each other with boxes that the tire sensor in my car had gone off, but I wasn't worried about it. I've been getting those tires fixed on a regular basis, because of all the road construction that's been going on in Arlington. So I'm used to having a slow leak, and getting it fixed at an indeterminate time in my future schedule, that I call my life.

I figured since we got me moved in, in about 1 hour, and it was only now 1:30, we'd have more than enough time before the pizza would get here (I had ordered Papa John's the night before, and it was being delivered at 2:30).

Nick, Ryan and I went to the Uhaul after filling the damn thing up with $50 worth of gas, when I really only should have paid half of that, since I only used 1/4 of a tank to get up here. When Nick was backing my car up, I noticed that the tire he mentioned two paragraphs earlier was as flat as I want my stomach to be, that is to say, as flat as a tortilla.

When we dropped off the Uhaul, some punk-ass kid who worked there came up to me, and asked if I wanted to clean the back of the Uhaul. I said, "No." I was not wanting to clean the Uhaul, and he asked me if I could. I at this point was starting to get really annoyed, and went English major on him. I said something like, "No I could not clean the back, because I do not have anything to clean it with. Nor was I particularly wiling to; however, why do I need to clean it anyways." He stated it was filthy... I went and looked at it, and decided to disagree with his assessment. However, I told him to bring me something to sweep it out with, so I could get out of here. After using the broom for 20 seconds, to sweep out about 20 leaves, I told him it was done, slung a few choice words about him while getting Nick and Ryan (he was in earshot, so I bet he heard) and then went to go look at my tire.

It was flat.

So, instead of changing it right there, we decided to drive to the gas station at the corner, and fill it with air, and to then change it back at my place. This game plan, while a good one, proved to not be applicable, when it was all said and done.

We got back to my place, and waited a short amount of time for the pizza to show up. The movers then ate it all, but were nice enough to leave me about 8 beers, which I'm still slowly finishing off.

After a little while longer, my Dad was ready to go, it is about 4 at this point, and when my dad gets this particular bug in his bonnet, he's not easily dissuaded. So, I told them that I'm going to go look at my tire, and see how it looked before they left. It's flat again. So with everyone looking at me, I am trying to change this stupid tire, but the damn nut would not break. Finally after torquing on it for a good 2 minutes, I gave up and ask my dad to try to break it. He couldn't break it either... the only thing I broke was my damn toe, kicking the tire.

So, it's good my Mom is a member of AAA. We called them, and told them the problem, that we're not able to break this damn nut, and asked if they would come out and try to do something with it... preferably change my tire.

So, now my Dad's stuck here for another thirty minutes, because my Mom doesn't want to leave, since the AAA membership is in her name, and now they're both worried about what I'm going to do about my tire.

So the AAA guy finally shows up, gets his wrench out, puts it on the security lock nut... and he can't break the damn thing off either. Finally, he gives up, tells my parents that he doesn't usually do this, and starts to plug and refill my tire.

By this point, I'm frantically calling Discount Tires, because they're the one who put that damn nut on so tightly that I couldn't get it off, to see if they can fix my tire. It's 4:45 when I call, they close at 5; so that's not going to happen.

I then call Walmart, a suggestion from Ryan, because they too have a tire shop, and it's really close to the discount tire... so close that I'm able to curse at the Discount tire and throw half peace signs at them while I drive past at 5:05 towards the Walmart.

The tech at Walmart tells me that it'll be about an hour to an hour and a half, before they can get to my car. I say, "Okay" and walk in to buy groceries while I wait. Fast forward an hour and $150 later, and I'm waiting for them to tell me that I need a new tire (which I already new).

Fast forward another forty minutes... the stupid woman who works as the customer rep for the garage section of the Walmart comes up to me, and tells me that the mechanic that had looked at my tire found absolutely nothing wrong with it. I stare at her dumbfounded, because I know there's a HUGE plug in the tire, and it needs to be fixed... I at this point am starting to silently hurl the filthiest curse words at this woman. Ryan at this point chimes in, and asks, "Did the tech look at the right tire?"

I at this point am silently praising him. The woman starts looking at the paperwork, and suprise suprise, the idiot hadn't. I tell her, that I expect my car to get the hell back on that lift right now, because I've already been here for almost two hours at this point, and this (the incompetency of Walmart) is getting ridiculous.

She at this point can see I'm getting more and more pissed by the second, and says of course. So I ask her if I've just become her number one priority, and she says that the moment the idiot tech (my name for the mechanic, not hers) gets done with this other tire, he'll get right back on mine. Another hour passes.

At this point, I'm furious, and am openly mocking the customer service woman, the two mechanics out in the garage, and I’m not even muttering the curse words at this point, but am openly throwing F-bombs and GDs left and right to every person that I can see, and this does include customers who are coming up to the woman, because she apparently also cuts keys... I find this ironic, because she's obviously not the sharpest knife in the draw.

Finally, this woman comes up to me, and tells me that the mechanic says I need a new tire, and I say to her, "D'uh. I told them that 2 and a half hours ago." She leaves me again, and then comes back with some numbers for pricing. She expected me to go with the cheap ass tire, but I'm not an idiot, I get the cheap one, and I'll be back there tomorrow, so I picked the most expensive one. Now, let me have poetic license for one moment, and set the scene: The room is gray, a gray that used to be white, but one too many dirty children had rubbed their redneck unwashed dirty hands against the wall, and it was now permanently off white. On top of that, the floor, a cheap linoleum, had not seen a mop and water since this particular Walmart had been born when the devil came to earth one night, squatted, and then squeezed out this new hell that was the building. On top of all of this, the humming from the florescent lights has started to give me a headache, and I was so pissed that I had stopped cussing and gotten really quite. At this stage, Tony (and Nick can back me on this) stops talking and starts hitting.

The woman starts asking questions, and I am answering with monosyllabic answers, mainly Yes's and No's and I’m pretty sure I grunted at one point, too. Also, I’m not responding to any of her trite apologies about my wait. Finally, when she's done, she gives me a total, and tells me that once the put the new tire’s on, I can pay, and leave. 30 minutes pass.

Finally, they've pulled my car back into the garage, and put it back onto the lift. Now the mechanic (a younger one than the original who looked at the wrong f'ing tire) starts to try to get the tire off. Ryan and I see this guy working, trying to get this damn tire off for a good 15 minutes, I think, but truthfully, I seeing red by this point, and might have blacked out for a second... however, he was trying long enough, that I asked the woman to go see what's the idiots (my words again) problem, and why the hell he hasn't gotten the damn tire off yet. She says okay, and walks out again. She doesn't return for 5 minutes.

Finally, the younger mechanic (the one trying to get my tire off) comes in, and tells me that he can't get the nut to break, and that he also broke my security lock on my tire. He then precedes to hand me my newly broken security lock, and says I need to take it to discount tire. I don't say anything I just take the lock. Once I turn around, I start throwing cuss words again. I cuss so loudly and with such vehemence, that it shocks a man who's roughly in his 40s, and he asks me what's wrong. I start ranting about the incompetency of Walmart, and the ordeal that I’ve been going through for the last 3 hours and some odd minutes. He says he's sorry to hear about my problems, and walks away. I hope that I dissuaded him from buying anything at the Walmart, but probably, he wanted to get away from the man who was cussing and very likely foaming at the mouth.

Finally, I grab my groceries, and take them to the bay door that my car is parked at. However, I can't put them in, because my car is still on the lift, and the mechanic who was working on my car is nowhere to be seen. Finally I see him, he had somehow scampered in without me knowing, and was talking to the other idiot mechanic (yes, the one who looked at the wrong tire), who was working on some other slub's car; suckers.

I got up to him, interrupt him mid-sentence, and tell him that I’m ready to leave, and could he please get my damn car off his gd lift gate. He moves... quickly.

After I had gotten my groceries into my car, I discover that the air pressure sensor was on again telling me the air pressure was low, and asked the same mechanic to please fill up my tire enough, so I could actually get home.

Once I finally get home, I put my groceries up, and go over to Ryan's, so we can order some takeout, since neither one of us wants to cook.

They (Red Boxx, a pretty tasty Chinese place up here) gets there pretty quickly, I ate about 1/4 of my food, and then went home, took a shower and went to bed, wondering what the hell I've gotten myself into.

Just as a P.S. to this story about the first day:

I did get my tire fixed on Monday. It cost me $16 for the road hazard, and I got a new tire for free along with new security tire nuts.