Lockers, Girls and Whiskey

That old high school locker is where a lot stuff went down.  French's locker was right beside mine, so there was always a lot of action.  He kept a bottle of rye tucked into a ski-doo boot, and he'd warm up your coffee if the coast was clear.  I also liked that locker because there was a pretty good chance some girls would swing by to see French.

There was this one girl that hung out a bit too much.  French had an on-again off-again relationship with her.  French would be after some new girl, and his old flame had a way of popping up, and even being at school early waiting by our lockers.  She had this uncanny ability to show up when French was hanging with some new girl.  He'd often make me his scout and look down the hall to see if she was sitting by our lockers.  I thought it was a good problem to have, but French was creeped-out by her persistence.

Maybe the coolest thing about his locker was that he rarely had a lock on it.  The door had this message written on it with a marker: "touch and pay the piper".  Needless to say: nothing ever went missing.

French Wears a Tie

French got called into a tough supply gig recently.  A grade 9 class had already driven off one teacher, so the board gave French a crack at it.  They were a really rowdy bunch the first day, but French came up with a plan for day two to settle them down.

He was inspired when he was standing near his window.  There was a wild cross breeze and his tie kept flapping in the wind.  French came into my room and asked me if  I had any cardboard.  We broke down a yearbook box and he stuffed it down his shirt, buttoned it back up, and straightened his tie.

During class his tie, once again, started flapping in the wind.  He brushed it aside, and kept acting more, and more, annoyed every time it happened.  He finally just snapped, grabbed a stapler, and fired a few staples into his tie.

The kids were quiet the rest of the class.

I just wish I hadn't lent him my tie.