First of all--Hi Rae!!! Glad to see you!!!
Second--Julie's got the COOLEST meme over at Samurai, and I'm getting in on the action for my next post...
Third--this is gonna blow your mind.
Have you ever had one of those wet-kitten-hanging-on-a-branch-over-a-fucking-waterfall days?
My morning was like that.
First of all, my work keys seem to have disappeared from the car while the car was at the dealership. There's another option as well, but the upshot is that they were NOT in the car when my husband got it last night, and I knew I was going to have to deal with the keyless hassle, YET A-FUCKING-GAIN. But, well, shit, I could have done it. And then several things happened.
The first was that the Cave Troll had an OCD meltdown of epic proportions--that lasted an hour and fifteen minutes. How could a tantrum last that long, you might ask? Well, most of it was in the car...in fact, 35 minutes of it was sitting at the SAME DAMN STOPLIGHT. So, well, in spite of the fact that I have 1st period prep, yeah, I was obviously late for work.
But, well, that's okay, I figured. Usually if the teacher isn't there, security will open the door and let your kids in, and while embarrassing, it's no bfd. Now I didn't have the keys to let me in the back gate, but, well, I called the front office to see if they could call my room and have a kid come let me in.
I waited for a moment...no dice. I spotted a sprinkler cover floating free on the ground, and tossed it at the metal grid surrounding my windows, to get the attention of the kids sitting there.
No dice.
I finally flagged down an aid who was about to walk into another classroom, and he let me in. I walked into my classroom semi-annoyed--I mean, geez, guys, you can't cut me a break and let me in?
My principal opened the door, the grand prickweenie shit-sausage himself. He didn't smile. He didn't ask me if I was okay. He didn't ask for an explanation for my lateness. He ignored me, finished boring my kids with shit he pulled out of his ear, and left. I turned to the kids with my "geez, guys, you couldn't cut me a break and..."
"He wouldn't let us!!!!!"
"What?"
"We were going to let you in--he said, "No, let her figure it out for herself.""
"I beg your pardon?"
"He didn't let us go get you."
"Are you sh...I mean kidding me?"
A few minutes later, he walks in to observe my class. They're excited by now--I've given them their project papers and they're totally into them. Group projects with stories they enjoyed...they're like, 95% on task. I walk up to him and try to explain--he doesn't look at me, he doesn't respond, and I turn back around and go to my desk, thinking about reasons I want him dead.
He leaves, and the kids look at me, and the general consensus--both theirs and mine--was "ASS-hole!!!!!"
I mean, seriously, people--this is my lead fucking professional? This festering sphincter boil is what I"m supposed to follow and admire? I would rather take orders from flaming troll boogers than from this complete goat-rutting-prick-scabbing-cockroach turd.
He's throwing a penis-party, I mean lunch meeting tomorrow, and I have opted not to go.
And if he asks about me, the other members of my department have been asked to respond, "She's guessing you'll figure it out for yourself."
If it comes to a point where you get a chance to say something to him (I would NOT go out of my way looking for one, but you know, if you get an opening), point out that his cute little manouver made THE STUDENTS lose respect for him. A lot of it. And that really, really isn't the way to go.
ReplyDeleteI assume he already knows you don't respect him, or he wouldn't be playing these fucked up games. And why SHOULD you respect such a dickhead?
I don't suppose a complaint to the union - something about him deliberately keeping you locked out of your room? - would accomplish anything.
What a shit! Thank goodness your kids are on your side. It sounds like they can see through the principal skin to the prickweenie underneath. How demoralizing for you. Does he have a supervisor? Doesn't someone monitor his behavior? They should.
ReplyDeletehe really sounds like an arse. Like Julie and Donna Lee said, is there anyone you can report him to?
ReplyDeleteWhat a charming gentleman. Maybe you should get him a lovely gift? Maybe something along the lines of the Black Death or an evenings not complete if someone doesn't end up with Syphilis.
ReplyDeleteHow many weeks until the end of the year?
Speaking of butts, watch out for yours. That guy's truly got it in for you. Man, that story is right out of... Dickens.
ReplyDeleteWhat boils my bones more than anything is managers who don't know how to play to their employees strengths and weaknesses. That's their JOB! If you can't cook your resources into one bit happy pot of stew, get your Head Chef pretensions out of the kitchen!
What Coach Susan said, CYA! And don't go out to get him. Just let him hang himself. Are you the only one he is being so unprofessional about? I doubt it. Document, and stick together, and let his actions speak for themselves.
ReplyDeleteIf I were a swear-er, this would be the time I'd let some of your creative profanity. Holy cow.
ReplyDeleteThere are some things I miss about that place...and some things I don't.
I do try to check up on you now and again. :)
Absolutely CYA. And document, document, document. Dates, times, occurences. Any time the prick-weenie does something unprofessional (like holding a whole class hostage?) write it down. When you are asked why you are not co-operating with him you can ask the questioner if you were supposed to keep the kinder locked up, too?
ReplyDeleteWhat a complete tonk - and a plonker!!! Yes - I have days like that - luckily my bosses are 4feet tall and think I am beautiful (and stupid)!
ReplyDeleteoh moron of morons. What a dickhead. And Julie is right - telling him it made the kids lose respect from him is a damn fine move.
ReplyDeleteOh, I totally agree with Julie. Really, what bad manners (I'm working with DD on manners). what a horrible example -- where's the humility, the humanity, the simple professional courtesy.
ReplyDeleteIn essence, a prick-weenie.