The Festival Approacheth With Big Hot Dogs

Last year, around this time, a student tried to entice me into his room by telling me about his hot dog.

This weekend is the annual school festival at the school where I work. The students gussy up the school, tune their musical instruments, practice their performance skills and warm up their singing voices and then invite hordes of people to visit the school. This is also the only time of year when the mostly non-religious religious school finds religion as all the boys start praying for sunny weather and that the hordes of people be mostly high school girls.

Oh Lord above, wise and fair and mighty, we beseech thee in thy mercy to send thy great and holy light that is the sun and the teeming masses of girls in mini-skirts that we may beseech of them their Line IDs and phone numbers and that we may know them but, of course, not in that way. Totally not. No really, not in that way. Really. Amen.

Something like that.

Rainy days bring small crowds and great depression and great expense. Sunny days are much more interesting, especially because the various clubs can show off their sporting and musical skills outside.

The great expense comes because each classroom prepares and sells some kind of snack and drink. If they don’t sell what they prepared, they lose money. The most outgoing guys from each class go out in the hall and act as barkers to draw crowds to their rooms. They even, for a few minutes, pretend to like the teachers.

Last year one former student saw me and said “Mr. Library, (sic) I have hot dog.” and I was like well, I hope so since it is a boys’ school.

He persisted: “I have big hot dog” and I was like “Don’t tell me, tell the girls in mini-skirts, and, well, no, don’t tell them that.” I tried to run away, but some other teachers were interested in the big hot dog which turned out to be a trap because it was sweet cream cheese in a hot dog bun. (The students are not allowed to serve things like beef or pork that might actually go bad and make visitors sick.)

The teachers were disappointed and I was like “well, that’s what you get for trusting a guy who talks about his big hot dog.” You need to make him show you the merchandise first.  So to speak.





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  1. Pingback: I Teach for Money but This I Do For Sport | Mere Blather

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