The best days of your life??

So, in a bizzarre twist of, well, my mind I guess. The SP story reminded me of when I was at school.

No, not in an alcohol and sex fuelled way (well, not completely), more in a “SP could have slept with one of my teachers kind of way”.

Let me explain in my usual unnecessarily long winded and wordy way.

My Dad was posted to Guetershloh many years ago (no envelopes were used, this is a military term) and I ended up at school 3892 of my short life (at least thats how it felt). As was the norm in these cases, I was tested to see what class I would be placed in for my continuing education.

I seem to remember not paying attention to what I was doing, and I ended up in the top English class. I didn’t mean for it to happen, I don’t know what I was doing really. You see, I tended to drift at school and decided early on that I would prefer to coast than work hard. Not to get too serious, but it is something I regret with hindsight, as I have had to work that much harder since school to get anywhere. Had I actually applied myself like I was perfectly capable of, I might have had a slightly easier career path. Anyhoo, I digress.

Working hard bad, coasting good.

Right, thats me back on track. So I am now in a class full of hyper intelligent (and bloody boring) ubernerds. It was not fun, and I was all about the fun. Now, in an upcoming post I will explain about confidence or my lack of it in general. Suffice to say that in social settings I am fine, but public speaking is not my thing.

Top set (as it was called) involved a lot of presentations to the rest of the class. Mainly to give your interpretation on some supposed literature and I hated them. They were just another reason to get the hell outta that class.   I was deliberately failing the class to meet my goal, when it came…the big stand-up presentation to the class.   I had prepared well, but about an hour before I was due to give my presentation, the panic started creeping in.   Rather than take the predictable “Sick” route….I decided to cause some chaos.   It was an old school, and some of the fire alarms were large levers rather than the “Break Glass, Push Button” type.   This meant that I could pull the lever quite a way, and balance it rather precariously to allow me the time to return to class before it went off.   Not that I would do anything like that.

After the school was evacuated, I ended up not having to give my presentation and was graded on my notes….result.

So, at the end of the year, my goal was achieved and I got moved into the middle group.   This is where my earlier statement about SP comes into play.

My teacher as a certain Miss Hyde.   She dressed like a tramp (no, not the 50s connotation…an actual tramp/hobo type) and introduced herself to the class as an ex-prositute.   Being over 55, she still insisted on putting herself on display whenever possible, much to the disgust of the class…causing a large percentage to “speak to god on the big white porcelin telephone”.   I think SP would have liked her, although she may have had too many teeth.

I have to say that Kings School was great, I don’t know if it qualifies as the best time of my life, but it was certainly fun.

I remember getting banned from youth club after being caught leaving the toilets with 2 girls…and a porn mag :oops: That led to some interesting discussions at home I can tell you.

For some reason, I ended up as a Prefect at one point.   Probably not the best idea that the teachers ever had.

I got the entire Social Studies class in detention when I persuaded everyone to ditch the class one day.   I never fully understood the idea of that punishment though.   It’s kind of like giving someone a driving ban as a punishment for joyriding.   Suffice to say, it only took me a matter of seconds to convince the class to ignore detention too….

I do remember being particularly evil once though.   Our German tutor was not the strongest woman and unfortunately she was dealing with a class that contained me and James Woolley.   The way I recall it reminds me of a scene from a movie.   The quiet teacher trying to get the attention of the unruly class who are ignoring her and talking.   So, she lost it and started screeching.   This got our attention pretty quick and we all snapped out of whatever we were doing.

Unfortunately she had already lost it and, began telling us how hard she had worked on some visual cue cards to help us with our German vocabulary.   She was doing that staccatto speech-breathing thing that people do (especially kids) when they are trying to hold back from crying.   When she said something that I have never forgotten :

“I spent all night working on these last night, and all you lot can do is mess around and make me hoarse”

What?   You didn’t think it would be some poignant shit that made me straighten up and fly right, and then follow to this very day.   No no no.   What I did was whinney, loudly, like a horse…a big, loud horse.

What happened next goes back to the movies.   She stormed out, and went to fetch her husband who just happened to be the head of year.   By the time they got back, we were all sat prim and proper, studying hard from our text books.

It was quite funny really, they never bought it though and within a minute James, who was sat next to me, was sent to the Headmaster for making the horse noise.

If only I had been thinking, I could quite possibly have been an evil genius.   Although I don’t like sharks, can’t be arsed with lasers and I sweat when the sun comes out, so living under a volcano doesn’t really appeal….

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