The kind of conversation to which normal folks are not privy, working their nine-to-five jobs in Cubicleville:
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"Can I wear a Bob Marley wig to school?"
"NO!"
"Who says?"
"It would be like wearing a hat."
"It's not a HAT! It's hair."
"It's not real hair. You'd get in trouble. Unless it's dress-up day for Red Ribbon Week."
"They can't tell me I can't wear hair to school."
"Yes they can. You already HAVE hair."
"I'll shave my head bald. Then I'll wear a Bob Marley wig."
"You can't do that."
"If someone has cancer they can wear a wig."
"You don't have cancer."
"I'm going to ask Mr. Principal if I can wear my Bob Marley wig to school."
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Hope springs eternal in the un-Bob-Marley-wig-covered freshman brain.
2 comments:
Aah, yes...the flood of funny comments is one of the many, many perks.
Sioux,
Yes. That's why we're the envy of the general populace. Folks are banging down the door to get into teacher college. Then, after a year of toiling in the trenches, they will fly the coop and pursue a career as a stand-up comedian with all the material they have stolen from the youth. Or write a book, which is trickier, what with confidentiality and all, and in addition lacks the immediate applause-love of drunken hipsters.
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