Thursday, September 13, 2012

The oh-so-fun Joys of Being in my Orchestra Class

 Well then, today was eventful. I mean, if you consider hatred and glaring plotting revenge as eventful.
Because I'm bored, I will type this matter out in story form. Anyway, whether you end up reading this or not, I will tell you about my orchestra class today.

Orchestra class is fun. I like playing my instrument. It's a little relaxing, and I can let my mind wander when I'm playing a song. And there's no homework for that class. However, when you're stuck in a room with someone you utterly despise, it kind of puts a damper on the enjoyment.
This year, my orchestra teacher – who is a tad crazy, but easy to get along with – decided to bring in one of the substitute teachers we've had as an assistant. Quite honestly, this didn't exactly bother me. She was fine as a sub. She was a smidge annoying, yeah, but all subs are that way, so I didn't hold it against her.
I do now.
School's only been in a few weeks so far, and in those few weeks, I have learned to hate this woman. She's awful. I hope you never have to meet her, and if you do, I am really, truly sorry for you. The worst part is, she thinks she's nice. She thinks we like her. And before any of us even did anything on the second day, she gave us this ridiculously long lecture on how disrespectful we are, and how she hates when she gets eye rolls, and she went on about how teenage girls were disrespectful to everyone. That, for one thing, made me irritated. It made everyone irritated. Even the guys in the class. And my friend talked back to her about how she wasn't being fair, and the teacher got angry.
Anyway, now that you know a bit how terrible she is, here's what happened today.
It was 1:20 or so, and orchestra ended at 1:30. We all end up packing up at 1:25. So as a joke, a couple of kids said, “Oh, look, it's time to pack up.”
The sub, who I will refer to from now on as Ms Jerkface, looked at the clock. “It is not,” she said, shooting a glare at a few of the students. She forced a smile onto her face. “Since we still have time, what song should we play now?”
We all suggested a song called 'The Creepy Crawl'. She agreed to let us play it, since it's the only one we know so far and can play it fast. Besides, it's creepy. Of course we wanted to play it. (Mind you, throughout the entire class I'm fairly certain there was a look of hostility towards her. Being in the same room made me want to hit someone.)
One we had played it, it was only about a minute later. She looked through the music.
“Okay, let's play this song,” she said, and showed us which one to pick up. A few kids did, but not most of us.
So, obviously, the teachers – both of them – went into a rant about how we're disrespectful, we need to follow rules to succeed, etcetera etcetera. When they had finished, it was 1:25.
“Okay, so time to play that song now,” Ms Jerkface said. No one moved. She frowned. I raised my hand and she pointed to me, so I spoke.
“You know,” I said, “it's time to pack up now.”
She stared, then gave a crazy laugh, while taking a step towards me. “If I had a nickle for Every time one of you kids said it was time to pack up, I'd be a millionare by now! A billionare!
She laughed at her own joke. Nobody else did.
“No, really, it's time to pack up,” I insisted. I pointed. “Look at the clock. It's time to get ready to go.”
At this point, the class had gone silent and was watching the conversation.
“I don't want to look at the clock,” Ms Jerkface practically sneered.
I bristled. “Well, we would've had time to play if you hadn't been talking for the last five minutes.”
She stared at me as if I'd just done something so incredibly awful that the very world would split in two because of it. There was a silence. It was all so very dramatic.
I shrugged, which didn't exactly match the look of sheer hatred on my face. “I'm just saying.”
“Well, I don't care what you have to say,” she snarled.
All the eyes in the room shifted from her, to me, to her again. Even the regular teacher looked surprised.
There was a silence, and I'm sure at this point I looked quite hostile indeed. I'm not a good person when I'm angry.
“Well, that's rude,” one of the girls next to me muttered.
“That's the problem with teenagers!” Ms Jerkface exclaimed, exasperated. “You're always dying to get the last word!”
I shut my mouth, glaring, because I knew that if I retorted this would get out of hand and I'd get in a ton of trouble. She smiled a little, as if she had won the argument. But as she kept eye contact with me, I could tell she knew she hadn't by the way her face started to slacken. There was no way I was going to look away first. She looked away.
And do you know what she said after that? Do you?
“Time to play the song.”
So, clenching my bow so tightly that it could've snapped, I slammed it down onto the strings of my cello and played the stupid song.
When we finally did get to pack up, everyone in the cello section blinked at me.
“The teacher is terrible,” they all muttered.
“Uh... are you okay?” someone asked.
I turned around, put on a smile and said, “Of course I'm okay. I just want to throttle the teacher and beat her with a shovel. I'm just dandy.”

And then, as we were walking out the door, to make things so much more fun, Ms Jerkface said, “See? You still had time to pack up.”