A Play

Last weekend, Kris & I went to a play.

For me, it was an extra credit opportunity for Literature (I'll need it; I've got to write about poetry); for Kris, she had a friend from German class in the play.

So, we were enjoying the play and, at intermission, were sitting there chatting and noticing people in the audience that we knew: my music teacher from last semester, a former co-worker, etc. I happened to look across the small theater and, lo' in the hole, there was my Lit teacher, Mr. K.

"Kris!" I said, barely moving my mouth, "There he is!"

"Who?" she asked.

"Mr. K, my Literature teacher, he's over there staring at us," I said. Kris looked across the theater and saw him. She agreed that he looked like a frightening sort of teacher.

I waved in a friendly sort of fashion and smiled brightly in his direction. He lifted his hand in greeting and let it fall back to his side, no smile, just kept staring. And he wouldn't quit! Made me feel like a wicked stepchild!

So now Kris can support me in agreeing that I have an awful class. She complained bitterly at having to write three (I think) papers; I have to write a combination of twelve to fifteen paragraphs, essays, and papers. And believe me, I do my share of bitter complaining!!