Newmentia had parent conferences,
and I had to stay until 7:00. As a special treat, rather than have the faculty
order out as usual, we were treated to Pasta House. I did not have a chance
during the day to ask if I could pay for The Pony to feed at our trough. He was
invited to join us last year for free, but I don’t mind paying for a pasta
buffet for the young ‘un. A person not in charge said she thought it was fine.
In fact, she made a plate for the very young children of Italian Chandelier,
who was in a meeting. Another teacher-kid came to feed. I had told The Pony
that he should wait until the faculty had a chance to go through the line.
I was at the tail end, only ahead of
the two tech guys, who suddenly remembered they had forgotten to do something,
and rushed off. The Pony came in at that moment, and followed me down the line
in the teacher workroom.
I was mesmerized watching Ms Poor
fill a Styrofoam plate with salad. A heaping plate. I did not begrudge her the
feast, but was only enthralled with the mechanics of her gravity-defying construction.
On I went, past the rolls after putting one on my plate to hand off to The Pony
later (because Mrs. HM has been cutting back, and pasta was carb enough) to the
almost-empty chicken fettuccini foil pan. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw
with horror what The Pony was up to.
Actually, I was alerted to turn
around by Pinky, who had sidled in unannounced, and said, “Good gosh, Pony! Do
you like rolls?” And there he was, grabbing a handful of fake-butter packets,
his plate brimming with 6 rolls. SIX ROLLS! Plus I had one on my plate that I
was secretly giving him!
I couldn’t tell him to put some
back. Like when Mary Richards told Lou Grant clandestinely in the kitchen: “Mr.
Grant! There are six servings of Veal Prince Orloff. You took HALF!” And Lou
Grant made a big show of going back to the table, picking up the serving
utensils, and putting two slices of Veal Prince Orloff back on the platter.
“What do you know? I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.”
I couldn’t tell The Pony to put some
back. There was Pinky as a witness. Nobody wants rolls that a student had on
his plate. So I said, “You are a guest here! There is no need to be a hog.
Other people want to eat, too.” Which is what Pinky told us, in not so verbal
words, on the hot-pink poster board she made one year and flaunted at the
holiday potluck down in the home ec room. Seriously. Don’t get me started. You
go to the store and buy a poster board and take the time to write on it and
leave your class to come to first lunch shift and walk around flashing that
sign that pretty much called us hogs? “Remember. Other lunch shifts need to
eat, too.” I don’t remember ever running out of anything. Nor did we run out of
rolls from Pasta House Tuesday night. Indeed, there was still a foil tub half
full.
It’s just the idea that The Pony was
caught by Pinky with a plethora of breadstuffs on his plate. I’m sure that
information made the rounds. Of course she wasn’t there when the little kids
were getting their plates filled, and the other faculty offspring made hers. I
hope she doesn’t complain and try to get me fired.
Oh, wait! I’ve already resigned!
3 comments:
What is about boys and their rolls? My boy, when he was younger, aspired to someday be the "Breadstick Boy" at Fazoli's. Of course, he had that lofty goal in mind because he knew he'd then have the chance to eat unlimited breadsticks. Ian and The Pony would be keeping an eye on each other as they gobbled up rolls, worried that the other would get the last one...
BTW--Sue Ann Nivens was one of my favorite characters. Although Rhoda Morgenstern was the one I was most like...
Sioux,
I daresay they might have started swashbuckling with those breadsticks!
Sioux 2,
I LOVED Sue Ann! She was quite an imp. But Rhoda was my favorite.
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