Wednesday, February 10, 2010

tastes like high school

See him now?

Okay, so one day last week, I needed to take Wolfgang for his sports physical. The appointment was conveniently timed so that I would sign him out of school just as one class was ending. Easy enough.

I made my way to the high school entrance and opened the doors. I was instantly met with the roar of rushing.... hormones? Whatever.

I've been in the high school on just a few occassions - teacher/parent conferences, check-ins, dropping off forgotten whatevers - but have never been in there during the change of classes. I found myself instantly swept up in the flow of mass of teenaged humanity.

I managed to skirt my way around the borders of this current and make my way to the podium which large, angry signs were telling me I needed to stop at before advancing any further. Behind the podium was a largish Wrestlemania-looking man that I guessed worked nights as an effective nightclub bouncer.

In a surprisingly grandmotherly tone, he handed me a visitor's badge and asked that I please return it to him before I left. I then dove into the current of teenaged humanity.

The flow carried me up the stairs to the office. Except... wait... it's the library that's upstairs. The office is downstairs. CRAP! I managed to untangle myself from the mass of teenaged humanity and hug the wall.

Now I had to somehow find a way to get down two levels. I detected a flow of mass of teenaged humanity moving in that direction and went for it once again.

Continuing, this downward current of teenaged humanity carried me back down to the main level and past the Wrestlemania-but-grandmotherly man. I managed to keep going.

At last, I was at the ground level and had the office in my sights. I frantically paddled - or at least it felt as if I frantically paddled - my way to the office door. Eventually, I made it and was met by the serene silence away from the mass of teenaged humanity and found the school secretary affectionately known as "the Crackhead".

"You need the attendance office", the Crackhead explained in a raspy voice. "Around the corner", she directed with a skeletal finger.

Thankfully "around the corner" wasn't very far. I made my way into that serene space. A moment later, Wolfgang came peeking around the corner.

"Oh, there you are", I said.

"I've been here. Where were you?", he asked.

Stranger in a strange land.


  1. I taught high school math for one year. I spent that entire year explaining to other staff members that I was NOT a student and I did NOT need a hall pass. I demoted myself to junior high after that.

  2. Masses of teenage humanity actually frighten me. But don't tell my kids.

  3. I volunteer at our high school once a month and I try to avoid entering or exiting during those passing times. It IS treacherous! Glad you survived!

  4. It's kinda like salmon swimming upstream. Reminds me of trying to navigate Bourbon Street during Mardis Gras (except with more drunks). Ya go with the flow to get ahead. I definitely don't miss those days.

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  6. I often feel this way when I walk through shopping malls...

  7. tastes like high school? Just the title had me less than fondly remembering the taste of self doubt served with a side of teen angst and paired with a nice perfectly decanted bottle of know it all.

    Of course it was likely different for you

  8. I am already nervous about 4 1/2 years from now when my daughter is supposed to attend our huge local HS.

    I went to public HS but my graduating class was less than 200 kids. I don't know what to think about sending her into a sea of THOUSANDS of teens!