I had plans to go to a bar called Tonic with some of my girls. The night was going great and I was ready to partake in my share of drinking and dancing at the trendy hot spot. I went up to get what I believe was my third gin and tonic--what my friends claim was my fifth--when a heard a familiar voice.
"Hey! Miss Pell!”
I turned to see Misty’s cousin, Terry the dog groomer, staring down at me. All 320 pounds of flannel wearing Terry was eagerly eyeballing me with her rough, reddish skin and Marlboro Red dangling from the side of her mouth.
"John Goodman, hey.” I was drunk and giggling and I’m not sure she understood what I just said. Plus, I was extremely shocked to see her in this type of club.
"Um…no, it’s Terry, Misty’s cousin.” She said. Maybe Terry never watched Roseanne.
"Yeah, um Terry, I need to get a drink and join my friends and pee. You have a good night.” I needed a way out. Fast.
"Wait, let me buy you a shot. Least I can do,” She offered. Who can pass up a free shot?
She bought me a jager-bomb and as soon as the bartender served it up, I quickly snatched it, downed it, and muttered a quick, “Thanks!” before I dashed away.
This was followed by Terry loudly saying, “No problem toots!”
Puzzled and feeling a vaguely violated, I double fisted the rest of that night.
The next day my friends said I was so drunk that I could barely stand. They said in the cab ride home I kept proclaiming over and over that, “John Goodman called me toots.”
Showing posts with label Misty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Misty. Show all posts
Sunday, November 8, 2015
18: Xena Story
This morning went rather well in class. It is funny how the kids calm down and are rather tired on days that it is raining. Maybe because it seems dark outside and they think they should still be asleep. Not a lot happened during morning math, reading and coloring. The highlight of the morning was Sara nibbling a little on her crayon. However, when lunch came around the kids started to perk up.
Usually my assistant sits with the kids at lunch and I get a break, but she was out today. They were all excited to go to the lunchroom since it was a Thursday. Thursdays in our school is chocolate milk day, and they all get two small cartons of it with their lunch.
I had them all seated and I was helping them get situated when I noticed Misty standing up on her chair. She had been ranting about something she’d seen on Xena all morning. (Her parents bought her the first 2 seasons on DVD). She was holding the circular lid to her Tupperware in her hands and was telling Anni that it is her “Chakram” just like Xena’s (I looked it up--it’s some weapon Xena used).
All of a sudden she let’s out this warrior-like scream,
“Ah la la la la la la la la!”
I see Misty whip the lid as hard as she could. It flew, quite well I must say, across the room and nailed Steve in the forehead.
Steve sat for a second, and then summoned all his energy and let out a piercing wail. He let it out with so much force over a span of three minutes that he ended up crapping his pants.
I had to take him to the office to call his parents and explain what a red welt was doing on his forehead.
When I asked Misty about why she threw her Tupperware top at Steve she simply replied, “Steve is the enemy.”
Usually my assistant sits with the kids at lunch and I get a break, but she was out today. They were all excited to go to the lunchroom since it was a Thursday. Thursdays in our school is chocolate milk day, and they all get two small cartons of it with their lunch.
I had them all seated and I was helping them get situated when I noticed Misty standing up on her chair. She had been ranting about something she’d seen on Xena all morning. (Her parents bought her the first 2 seasons on DVD). She was holding the circular lid to her Tupperware in her hands and was telling Anni that it is her “Chakram” just like Xena’s (I looked it up--it’s some weapon Xena used).
All of a sudden she let’s out this warrior-like scream,
“Ah la la la la la la la la!”
I see Misty whip the lid as hard as she could. It flew, quite well I must say, across the room and nailed Steve in the forehead.
Steve sat for a second, and then summoned all his energy and let out a piercing wail. He let it out with so much force over a span of three minutes that he ended up crapping his pants.
I had to take him to the office to call his parents and explain what a red welt was doing on his forehead.
When I asked Misty about why she threw her Tupperware top at Steve she simply replied, “Steve is the enemy.”
15: Meet Misty
Misty is not like most of my kids. Misty is autistic; sort of like Dustin Hoffman in ‘Rainman.’ As if this isn’t enough, she also has Tourettes Syndrome. This means that has an amazing memory, has problems relating to others and interacting socially, and twitches, yelps and swears like a sailor when she gets provoked. It can make for an interesting class.
Misty really enjoys telling stories about television shows she watches at home. She knows everything there is to know about Xena: Warrior Princess, and she can remember so many little details about that show--that’s the autism at work.
Then there is the Tourettes side of Misty.
She has a rather severe case and is on medication to control the spasms and ticks. Sometimes when she’s nervous or angry, she’ll have a mild facial tick here and there. But the obscenities are more difficult to control.
A few days ago, the class was busy working on individual projects when I noticed that Jay was talking rather fiercely to Misty. He was really getting in her face saying something about her drawing. Due to her autism, Misty tends to focus on her tasks intently, thus it is an effort to try and get her to break concentration when we are switching to a new project. Jay was persistent in distracting her and kept right on doing so, yet no matter what he said nothing seemed to be fazing Misty.
I was about to tell Jay’s to stop yammering at Misty, when she stopped coloring and looked up from her drawing. She had a sudden movement where she cocked her head to the right, blinked her eyes a few times, looked at Jay and said,
"Sss…ssslut ass buuhhh-uuuttt fucker!”
Then she simply resumed coloring. Jay glanced towards at me with shock stamped on his face. I gave him a look, and kept on reading my magazine article. He didn't bother her the rest of class.
Misty really enjoys telling stories about television shows she watches at home. She knows everything there is to know about Xena: Warrior Princess, and she can remember so many little details about that show--that’s the autism at work.
Then there is the Tourettes side of Misty.
She has a rather severe case and is on medication to control the spasms and ticks. Sometimes when she’s nervous or angry, she’ll have a mild facial tick here and there. But the obscenities are more difficult to control.
A few days ago, the class was busy working on individual projects when I noticed that Jay was talking rather fiercely to Misty. He was really getting in her face saying something about her drawing. Due to her autism, Misty tends to focus on her tasks intently, thus it is an effort to try and get her to break concentration when we are switching to a new project. Jay was persistent in distracting her and kept right on doing so, yet no matter what he said nothing seemed to be fazing Misty.
I was about to tell Jay’s to stop yammering at Misty, when she stopped coloring and looked up from her drawing. She had a sudden movement where she cocked her head to the right, blinked her eyes a few times, looked at Jay and said,
"Sss…ssslut ass buuhhh-uuuttt fucker!”
Then she simply resumed coloring. Jay glanced towards at me with shock stamped on his face. I gave him a look, and kept on reading my magazine article. He didn't bother her the rest of class.
6: Terry's team
It was Monday morning and I knew there would be a new student joining my class. Just as the day was beginning, the principal knocks on my door and drops off a new bundle of love. A freckly, pale, skinny kid walks in wearing baggy jeans--tapered and tight against the ankles, a big purple fleece shirt, and dusty red hair in a buzz cut.
I’m playing the pronoun game because at this point I seriously have no idea if this is a he or she. I would have put $20 down on it being a boy based on the looks and haircut.
“This is Misty. She will be joining your class,” he introduces to the class.
After showing Misty to her desk and reading the class a story, it was time for recess. Since this was her first day, I went outside to check to see if Misty was interacting with the other children. I notice many kids circling around her, taking turns rubbing her head. I walk over and ask what is going on.
Misty pointed at her hair, “Terry cuts it!” She says proudly.
“Who’s Terry?” I asked her.
“My cousin.” I left it at that and class resumed.
At the end of the day, I got some of the kids on the short bus and was waiting out front for the kids who are picked up. Suddenly, a big black Dodge Ram Diesel truck roars into the parking lot. A woman, who resembled John Goodman, jumps out of the truck and comes over. I just knew this barn door of a woman had to be related to the new girl.
“I’m Terry, Misty’s cousin.”
The only reason I knew this was a woman was because of her mammoth breasts that filled her sleeveless flannel shirt. This was Terry, the source of Misty’s haircut. As the extended cab diesel truck pulled out of the school parking lot, the rear hatch of the cab read in bold white letters: “Terry and Joan’s Pet Groomers”.
That was all the explanation I needed.
I’m playing the pronoun game because at this point I seriously have no idea if this is a he or she. I would have put $20 down on it being a boy based on the looks and haircut.
“This is Misty. She will be joining your class,” he introduces to the class.
After showing Misty to her desk and reading the class a story, it was time for recess. Since this was her first day, I went outside to check to see if Misty was interacting with the other children. I notice many kids circling around her, taking turns rubbing her head. I walk over and ask what is going on.
Misty pointed at her hair, “Terry cuts it!” She says proudly.
“Who’s Terry?” I asked her.
“My cousin.” I left it at that and class resumed.
At the end of the day, I got some of the kids on the short bus and was waiting out front for the kids who are picked up. Suddenly, a big black Dodge Ram Diesel truck roars into the parking lot. A woman, who resembled John Goodman, jumps out of the truck and comes over. I just knew this barn door of a woman had to be related to the new girl.
“I’m Terry, Misty’s cousin.”
The only reason I knew this was a woman was because of her mammoth breasts that filled her sleeveless flannel shirt. This was Terry, the source of Misty’s haircut. As the extended cab diesel truck pulled out of the school parking lot, the rear hatch of the cab read in bold white letters: “Terry and Joan’s Pet Groomers”.
That was all the explanation I needed.
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