I arrive at the fine institution that I teach at dressed like a student. Listen, I don’t give a shit about outward appearances, so I was wearing shorts, sandals and a polo shit that was probably too small. So Meat Head walks up to me and says, “Do you work here?” For a visual record he looks like Gene Gene the Dancing Machine. Or at least what he’d look like today, wearing the same clothes.

I tell him that, unfortunately yes, I do. “Well, da lady said to go talk to security on the second floor, but I saw you.”

So you’re telling me that I look like security? I tell him I’m not security, but I do work here, and ask him what the problem is.

“Someone stole the pinball out of the pinball machine again.”

I just started laughing right in his face. I don’t usually do that, I usually wait to laugh at you behind you back, but this time I couldn’t fucking help it. Let me break this down, hear me out.

This ’student’ thought that I was a security guard, and he was too lazy to go upstairs to report the fact that someone had stolen a pinball out of the pinball machine…again.

He wants to meet at 9:30 PM.

What is that mentality? Why do people feel the need to go ‘out’ and have some ‘drinks’ when it’s ‘dark’ outside?

I’m starting to only like daylight hours.

Is this a Debit Card?
Please Enter Your Pin.
Please Enter Your Zip.
Please Swipe Shaw’s Reward Card or Hit Cancel.
Please Select Grade.
Would You Like a Receipt?
Would You Like a Car Wash?
Would You Like a Free 20 oz Fountain Drink?

Christ.

Will: “Dad, these socks don’t match.”

Me: “They’re both white, aren’t they?”

Will: “Dad, you’re a genius.”

Jen really needs to watch her language around that boy, he’s very impressionable.

“Criss Cross Applesauce? What the hell are you maniacs talking about?”

Like this Dad, on the floor with your legs crossed.

“Indian style?” When the hell did this change happen?