PART I: Spanish Class
It all started when Mean Old Mrs. Green filled in for our Spanish class in 8th grade. The second part of this story is pretty much the reason I went to MC, because in addition to my brothers’ many misdoings I had made a reputation for myself as a trouble maker. So, Mrs. Green was this old raggedy substitute teacher and she was a bitch, no other way to describe her except maybe, cunt.
She gave us a worksheet that had all these to identify in spanish. Then we had to list all of the articles that the man in the picture was wearing. One of the things he had was a briefcase so some girl asked Mrs. Green “How do you say briefcase?”
The old hag responded semi-politely and said, “Oh you don’t have to worry about it because you don’t actually wear a briefcase.”
After that happened 2 kids went up to her and asked the same question, at this point she addressed the class somewhat angrily and informed us that you don’t wear a briefcase and it was unnecessary to list it. I took this as my opportunity to do what I do best: be an asshole (especially back at that age I was a super-ball buster). “Um, Senora Verde (green in spanish for you uneducated gringos) how do you say briefcase?”
“Mr. Robblee I just said you don’t need to know it and my name is Mrs. Green you do not translate people’s names.”
“Yeah I didn’t ask how you wear a briefcase I just want to know how to say it. As for the Verde part, my nametag here says Cristobal and that sure as hell isn’t my name so you’re wrong about the whole translation deal.”
“You don’t translate last names.”
“Yeah but, senora verde, how do you say briefcase?”
“You don’t”
“I don’t? or you just don’t know how to? You probably shouldnt be a teacher senora verde you’re not very good.”
At this point other kids had joined in on the whole briefcase/verde thing and took the attention off of myself. I lived to see another day…and so did verde’s career.
PART II: Math Class
Fast forward two weeks and my math teacher came down with a pretty bad illness, she was out for a pretty good amount of time. Many of the kids from my spanish class were in this class too and as soon as the old fart walked in the door we all started calling her “Mrs. Verde” and asking the dumbest questions possible.
I was wising off way too much and I pulled back because I saw her eyes turn red. But the damage had been done, I wound up everyone in the class and they kept going. I don’t remember the specific insults and stuff from this day as much but I do remember I was not the one who placed the last straw to break the cameltoe’s back…it was this kid sean who later moved to maine or some shit. Like i said, I eased off a little while before but sean made one wise crack too many and she turned around and bolted for me. She swung her hand back and i watched the excess skin from around her elbow jiggle back and forth on its way to connecting with my face. SMACK! Now I was pissed and realized how fucking inappropriate it was that she hit me, regardless of how many buttons I’d pushed. Plus, it wasn’t even me that said that last comment.
“You just fuckin hit me you wench”
“Yeah and I’ll do it again too”
“Like hell you will I’m leaving” so I got up and left the class, nobody said a word.
I walked out into the hallway and had nowhere to go because skipping classes was kinda difficult in middle school. As soon as I turned the corner to go to the bathroom I saw the assistant principal and she said hi and asked where i was going. “Oh just going to the bathroom, have a good day.”
I hung out in the bathroom by myself for a couple minutes and then walked out thinking I would go to the gym or the library, they were in the same general area of the school so I would just head in that direction. I walked one hallway toward the gym and ran into the assistant principal again. “Ok, Chris why aren’t you in the 8th grade hall?”
“Um, I just…” I froze thats what I did. I had no good lies coming to my head but she wouldnt have believed anything at this point anyways. “Miss Green slapped me so I left her class.” wow I didn’t want to be a rat but I also didn’t want detention for not being in class, so fuck that old bitch she shouldnt have slapped me.
After a long day in the office explaining and re-explaining my story to the principal, guidance counselors, and random teachers who heard through the grapevine I wound up getting a detention anyways. They realized that I’m no angel and I definitely provoked her to do it. But they also fired her and she woudl never work at the middle school again.
I got sent home from school early and my mom wasn’t mad because of course she believed I didn’t do any of the stuff they said I did (paper airplanes to the back of the head, throwing marbles at her feet, and coughing nonstop) because I was my mom’s little angel. My brother Timmy, who also had Sra. Verde a few times, said that he had her last week at the high school and she was probably still mad at him for throwing airplanes and shit in her class (no wonder where I got that stuff from.) He also said we should sue her and get all she’s worth, I told him she’s a 70 year old woman who substitute teaches so that would just be dumb. That’s when the phone rang.
That stupid old ass called me and wasn’t even apologizing. She was calling me to tell me she lost her job and pension. I responded with, “I really can’t believe you’re calling my house and not saying sorry for striking a child in the head. You still have a job at the high school so I feel no remourse for you. Trying to spin this on me like you didn’t do anything wrong is more childish than anything I’ve done. Just so you know we will meet again and once I get to the high school I’ll have some new tricks.” Needless to say I was just being a tough guy and didn’t plan on any of that shit because I had already applied to 5 private schools and had no interest in going to the high school.
So yeah, that’s the story about when I got a teacher fired for slapping me. I got lazy with the second half of the story but you can fill in the blank spots and imagine some of the shit I said to her to piss her off if you know me it won’t be too hard.
