This year the high school I'm interning at made it to State Finals for Volleyball. I won't say which division or class, only that we went and it was great. Fans came from all over and for a girl who doesn't understand what it means when someone screams "Touchdown!" at any other sporting event, I feel like I held my own at this one. I got it. Don't let the ball go outside the square. Don't hit other players on purpose. You need to be tall to play. That kind of stuff.
No, the real error of my ways was going with the family I live with as the mother coaches the team and the father's sole purpose when sitting on the sidelines is to make crass comments and jump around nervously the entire time they're playing.
So, I'm sitting with the family and their family friends and all the kids and out of nowhere this guy dressed like a horse shows up as one of the mascots and the two year old that is sitting with us just FREAKS THE F OUT. Like, "Holy crap have you ever seen anything scarier than a man dressed like a horse? Wearing a JERSEY? IS HE WAVING AT US?!?! AND DAAAANNNNCCCCIIINNNNGGG HEAVEN HELP US NOOOOOOOOOO" and immediately is scrambling her way from adult to adult to get as far as possible from said horrific mascot five thousand feet away across this giant ass gym dancing with some old woman to "Eye of the Tiger" playing loudly overhead. We must vacate the premises.
So I volunteer to take her and I walk with her a few seats away. We bounce. We dance. She asks me repeatedly "when will he come over here, why does he like little kids, can't you make him LEAVE?!" (I wish I were exaggerating) and lo and behold some of my students from school sit right behind me while I'm in the middle of consoling. Not coincidentally. No, no. They've been stalking me. We'll go into that more later. What's important right now is that they sought me out so they could wave stupidly at me while I dance to Miley Cyrus with a toddler and they can giggle like kindergartners.
BUT THAT'S NOT EVEN THE WORST PART. The WORST PART is that the father of the family I live with see's this all go down and because he's CAPTAIN FUNNY PANTS looks right at the kids, smiles widely and says to them, "Didn't you hear? Ms. E has a kid. She got knocked up in high school."
Time stopped. It was like I saw the idea form in his head above his hair...like in a tiny "evil breeds here" bubble but could do nothing about it. His definition of funny is so DIFFERENT FROM MY DEFINITION and I just couldn't get the words out fast enough. I couldn't prevent it, it just happened he said it and suddenly I was SO ROYALLY FUCKED because doesn't he know that nothing...absolutely nothing in the world of 16 year old boy is a joke?!?!
If looks could kill that man would be 'fillet of asshole' on the planet Mars right now but as it is, looks cannot kill. I stopped midbounce, the toddler continues to writhe hysterically because if we're not dancing that must mean I've noticed the mascot on it's way to EAT US ALIVE and all of these teenage boys are laughingly hysterically at this shared information.
AND THEN I can't even do anything about it! My options are so limited! I COULD deny, deny, deny because HELLO IT'S NOT TRUE but they are just laughing so hard and I could rip the head off the perpetrator but God what a scene that would cause and you can only imagine how much the small child would lose her mind because she's sure fresh carnage attracts even more mascots from around the world, much like in every zombie movie where one signal can send them all rioting. So what do I do?
Nothing. I smile, shake my head, call my frenemy an 'evil fucker' under my breath the entire rest of the game and finally have a one on one conversation with the damned horse wearing mascot to vacate our immediate vicinity.
Today I was asked twice today to tell my daughter my students said 'Hi'. I'm so fucked. So completely fucked. So much so that I've "f-bombed" six times in this posting.
Three weeks left? I'll never survive. Never.
To top it all off? We lost the match.
Touchdown.
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