It's worth noting that I did, in fact, see Pygmalion on Thursday night (a Broadway production, it's one of eight shows not affected by the strike as their stagehands aren't employed by LocalOne). It was good. Great in parts, but overall good. Claire Danes was good, but not any better than my friend at our University production fifteen years ago. As far as the production goes, Jefferson Mays was outstanding as Higgins. There was great irony to this incredible wordsmith saying volumes with his silence. My favorite performance overall was Jay O. Sanders (who you may recall as the inimitable Ziggy from Rosanne) as Mr Doolittle. His scene in the second act about the perils of middle class values was stunning.
But I digress.
The twin peril to the joy of sending text is that I can also receive them. Halfway through the day on Friday, I got a text on my phone from my teacher neighbor around the corner.
The peed in your ice chest
Isn't he hilarious, this one? Ha ha ha, siiighhh...I love these colorful characters I work with back home!
I threw back a one word message,
...and went off to do something pretentious. Perhaps it was a poetry slam or a discussion on innovative classroom methods or just cruising the exhibit hall for free books. Whatever, when I finished it, I had a return text.
I'm totally serious.
My thumbs flew back with some fury about the incompetence of the sub or guesses at the perpetrator or some such and all was left until I returned today. Today, when the students would fully experience the dark, dark midnight of my wrath.
The urinator had already confessed and is on a temporary sabbatical from English class. His accomplices were nabbed today and the ice chest will be replaced. Once the guilty three were removed, I could finally laugh about the incident and I was thrilled to see that my class echoed both my outrage and my laughter. Jokes about this being the "number one problem" flowed like...well, they flowed.
Sorry, it's not yet that funny.