Friday afternoon was meant for Happy Hour – it was just one of those weeks. We all piled into Ms. Island’s car and somehow managed to get through the storm of students that were still milling about in front of the school.
About a block down we spotted them. A whole swarm of our boys running down one street, then diagonally across and down the next block. Ms. Ped saw them first, “It must be a fight. There’s no reason for them to run that direction unless they were headed to watch a fight.”
“We should chase them down!” Responded Mr. Science.
Everyone started talking over everyone else, “We totally should!” “How funny would it be to see the looks on their faces when we pull up and break it up!” “Quick, make a right! We can still catch them!”
I think these people are nuts. It’s Friday, I don’t give a $hit what the kids are up to, I have washed my hands of this week and just want to move on into the weekend. I apparently do not have a say in the matter.
Ms. Island cuts across 3 lanes to make the turn, expertly maneuvers around the slow cars and the bus in front of us, narrowly misses a bike delivery guy, and within a few minutes we are zoning in on the group.
“There they are up ahead, I see Spazzy Boy…slow down!”
We creep up alongside the group. It turns out they are not fighting but in fact are just cruising around the neighborhood, undoubtedly up to no good. Still, there we are, five of us, and we are in the mood to have a little fun breaking up their fun. The windows get rolled down.
“You! What are you doing running around the streets like that?” Shouts Ms. Ped at one of the notoriously troublesome students who we know is on strict orders to go directly home after school. “You see this phone? I’m calling your mother right now, you need to be getting yourself home right this minute!”
“What…?” He turns and looks at us inching along beside them. He walks over. “Ms. Ped, what are you…hey! The whole damn school’s in that car! Hey…I gotta go!” With that, he takes off running the opposite direction.
Mr. Science pipes up at some of the other kids, “What are you doing out here!? You shouldn’t be wandering around the streets, go home and do something productive!” He can barely contain his laughter as he shouts on about what their grandmothers would think if they knew they were wasting their time on the street etc etc.
The kids stare at us, their jaws practically hanging in the gutter. We give a few last ‘teacher stares’ and zip off down the alley and back to our original goal of hitting up a Happy Hour.
I have to admit that it was pretty amusing. It’s not enough that we are on their cases all day at school doing the hall patrol, but now we are patrolling the neighborhood as well. On our way back we passed the first kid to dash off. He had run into a few other students on the street and they were having an animated conversation that I can only imagine included a warning that a carload of teachers was driving around, so you better watch yourself…