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A Ridiculously Long Account of My Day

Every child loves the smell of musty classrooms and new books, or so it is said in the new books. I tend to disagree with new books; they haven’t had time to become outdated, so they act like know-it-alls. Personally, I think that musty classrooms smell like musty classrooms, and new books smell like drying ink and plastic softeners.

Unfortunately, the foul yet eternal smell of classrooms doesn’t matter. In the end, you must return to the same place and smell the same smell, which is probably coming from you anyway. These are the thoughts that passed through my mind as I walked into the school. Its smell hit me like a brick wall, only more so. The smell lay just behind the familiar doors, reeking of strong memories.

I had come for the semi-annual tradition of sitting in the hallway and wasting a day of summer, also known as registration. Though I was on time, I found that there were already quite a few people in front of me who were similarly occupied. Most had grown more hair since last year, and most were silently fuming. I made a mental note linking long hair to being ticked off.

I waited in line, wondering what was at the end of the line. I pondered this question for about 10 minutes, and then looked to the head of the line to make sure it didn’t end in the girl’s bathroom. To my relief, it ended in the English room instead. This brought up a new question, since I didn’t need to do anything in the English room. Turning to the person behind me, I asked “What is this line for?” “This is the line for schedule changes” he / she / it replied. I looked to the head of the line again. We had been here for about half an hour, and gone about 3 feet. This did not look good. I turned to her / him / it and said “pretend I’m here”. Having thus staked my claim to a place in a line I didn’t need, I went off to get my books.

I waited in the line for books, wondering for at least the hundredth time why the offices had air conditioning, and the classrooms didn’t. Finally I got to the head of the line. “Do you have a locker?” asked a professionally grumpy student behind the desk. “No” I said. “Here” she said, handing me a piece of paper. “Go chose a locker”. I went as requested, and chose a locker. I then returned to find myself at the end of the line, again. I waited in line. Again. I wondered for the hundred and first time why the offices had air conditioning, and came to the conclusion that it was necessary to keep certain overweight people from sweating profusely. The line moved slowly, winding its way forward like a slow moving river; more side to side then forward at all. Finally I got back to the professionally grumpy student behind the desk. She gave me a yellow slip from which to choose my books. I chose, then handed it back to her. She punched numbers into the calculator, chewing her gum noisily. “Your total comes to $201.50” she said. “Cash or check?” I paused, my hand half way to my wallet. The year before we had been able to use credit cards. “Hold that thought” I said, as I darted out of the line and headed for the nearest ATM. The nearest ATM happened to be a mile away, but that was no big problem. I withdrew my hard earned savings, or at least $220 of said savings, and returned to the line. I waited, again. I briefly pondered the idea of why the offices had air conditioning, since I was now hot and sweaty, then realized I had already been over the issue before. The line moved slowly forward, but eventually I found myself before the grumpily professional gum chewer. I put the money on the desk; $201.50 in cash. She picked it up and counted it, chewing her gum with her mouth slightly open. She then took my yellow slip into the room where the used books were stored, glanced around, and came back. She had one book. “All the others were taken” she said. “You should have come two hours ago”. “I did come two hours ago” I said. "This is my third time through this line, my fourth time through lines today, and my 2483^rd time through lines in general, not counting cafeterias". She stopped chewing her gum long enough to stare blankly at me, then started again. The effect was rather like when a cow looks up from some hay it is eating, then forgets what it looked up for and returns to eating the hay.

I sighed as walked down the hall to my locker and placed my one book inside. I would have to get the rest new once classes started. I had wasted most of a day for one book. It then dawned on me that I had that same book from last year. I smacked myself in the face, which caused great pain.

Just then two of my friends walked by. They were talking about shopping, which I found vaguely interesting. I remembered I needed a few school supplies, as well as paper towels and new jeans. “Where are you going?” I asked. “Walmart” said one of the two. This took me by surprise; I had been under the impression that I was the only person in the world that shopped at Walmart. “Can I come?” I asked. “Sure” said one of the girls (they have chosen to remain anonymous).

We went to Walmart, and all went well. Granted, I was with two girls, and things were a bit slow, but I didn’t mind. I got a free ride to Walmart and got to hang out with friends, what more could a guy want? Ok, now that’s just gross, you have a dirty mind. As I was saying, we got lots of school supplies and other utilitarian stuff like that. At the checkout we put our meager purchases on the conveyor to be scanned and bagged. Halfway through the clerk picked up a small white-out pen. “Are you over 18? Do you have an I.D.?” he asked one of my anonymous friends. “Um, no and no.” she said. “Why do I need an ID?” “White-out requires an ID” he said. “Why?” she asked. “Because you could sniff it.” I said. “I have an ID, and I’m over 18” I said. The clerk took my ID and put the white-out in my pile of stuff. “Wow, just barely” he said. We took our stuff out to the car. “Who would sniff white-out?” asked Kimmi (anonymous girl #1) I pondered this as we walked back to the car. Gives a totally new double meaning to “riding the white horse”.

The moral of today’s story: don’t do homework and drive. If you must do homework, designate a lazy driver. Remember, in the state of Massachusetts, you work, you drive, you lose.

Let me bask in empty silence
That I may drink from inner light
Though all I see is inner darkness
You know some day I might
Imagination’s all I’ll ever have
Or at least it’s all I find
If you ever lose your dreams
You will lose your mind
Please don’t send me off somewhere
To find some institution
I heard they’re all the same somewhere
A cause without solution
No, not quite right
I’m not quite right