Wednesday, February 14, 2007


All my sins come back to haunt me

It was horrible, truly horrible: I walked into school on Monday to see the semi-detached leviathan Kids Leader from our area putting one of the staff room chairs through its paces. Casting my eyes around, I next saw Superdork, one of the least likeable people I've encountered in Japan. What the hell was going on? Did all of the good guys get shipped out of my school and replaced with lickspittles, brown nosers and backstabbers at the stroke of midnight Sunday?

My bowels began to swim through an icy ocean of terror. Cold sweat glistened and crawled on my brow. Turning round, I then saw the Nazi sympathiser from the next school up the track. I tried to shout get thee behind me Satan, but a spasm of revulsion wracked my chest and all I actually managed to say was "Wraarg", which wasn't at all what I had meant to say.

Superdork bade me good morning and announced that they were all there for some kind of training session related to Kids teaching. Although I managed not to say "thank fuck for that", the sound of my buttocks unclenching was embarrassingly audible.

Then in walked the passive-aggressive grinch (hereafter PAG). The PAG is a dour, unlovely woman, about two decades past her best, although it is fairly unlikely she would ever have constituted a catch, even in her prime. She is a recent arrival; had she come to Japan when she was my age, she probably would have been in time to catch some of the sweet, sweet bubble lucre. As it is, she is a ghastly, ghastly woman and usually tends to sit around glaring at other people with a face like a bulldog eating wasps.

I'll correct that: the PAG's face lacks any of the bulldog's celebrated tenacity. With her perennially furrowed brow, her cat's-arse puckered mouth and her bulging, mismatched eyes, she looks more like a chihuahua eating wasps. Anyone who has been unfortunate enough to meet her will know what I'm talking about.

I ran out of the staff room, grabbing Wes, just as he walked into the school. "Our teacher's room's full of twats," I shouted. "Let's hide by the coffee machine." When Adam arrived, he joined us. We stayed out of our school until about a minute before the bell. I rang our Top Brass and told him he was excommunicated for allowing this sort of thing to happen.

The training session itself went pretty much as expected: Superdork distinguished himself by asking mundane and obvious questions in a transparent attempt to curry favour. This was precisely as Wes had said beforehand. I livened the litany of brown nosing up a bit by sneering and muttering words like "jackass" every time he spoke in a voice which wasn't quite as inaudible as it should have been.

The PAG sat there with an expression on her face like she was waiting for her blood test results. I passed Wes a note about this and he giggled immoderately. The PAG kept looking in the wrong place on her faq; I loudly ridiculed the idea of going on a road trip with her as navigator.

The clock spat clicks. The Nazi sympathiser upset Adam with an ill-judged comment about cycling legend Lance Armstrong. Fresh ink in the book of grudges; just wait until the next two-bit sayonara party for fly-by-night gaijin.

It was Monday morning; my comrades and I were in Eikaiwa hell. Judge us not by our sins.

Labels: , , ,

Do you know what's scary? If I hadn't left, I might have been the one running that training session. Oh my. Dodged that one.
Heh- would"ve been better than watching Superdork and Naomi trying to do the butt-kissing equivalent of a 69.\

As well as tolerating Superdork"s attempts to be friendly with your backside ("we're both titled instructors, you know") you would've had to have withstood Adam shouting strange, childish Japanese and the PAG eating crayons.

Yes, you did dodge that one.

I'm at the Chez Wes this morning- we're off to try out free Japanese classes in Makino. Could be an adventure- apparently we're the only non-Asians there.
Post a Comment

<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Listed on BlogShares