And Scene...to be continued

So Mr. A, the principal of my school (my boss), walks into my room before the students arrive on the first day of school, as he does every first day of school, to have the same exact first day back conversation that we have every year. It's a bit and it goes like this:

Mr. A: Good morning, Ms. Haag!

Me: Good morning, sir. (large sigh) - (what? I'm allowed a sigh at freaking 7:00 A.M.) (AND I'm allowed as many stage directions as I want.)

Mr A: Don't you just love the first day of school?

Me: (pause before I carefully say) Mr A, I love the second semester.

(Mr. A grins at my smartassitude (probably because it's not unlike his own personality) and walks out of the room)

And scene...usually!

This year, the scene didn't end, as it ought to have done. In fact, the scene took a drastic turn for the worse in a way that happens only when the planets are disturbingly misaligned or when the 7th dimension devours the first and second ones in a spiraling wormhole of doom, leaving putrid detritus smeared on the walls of the subconscious mind. OK. I'm being dramatic. I don't think a 7th dimension exists. But if it does and if it decides to devour the first two leaving smeared detritus on walls and stuff, it would look something like this:

(On his way out of the room, Mr. A stops and glances at my peace corner (messages of peace from Einstein and Gandhi, in poster forms, and a huge rainbow peace flag that says 'pace' which is 'peace' in Italian - you know the one that my students consistently and "rationally" interpret as a banner homage to my adoration of gay picante sauce - ??). He stops, looks at me, points to my peace corner.)

Mr. A: There will never be peace, you know.

Me: (large gasp coordinated with a truly puzzled/horrified look on my face)

(Mr. A walks out of the room.)

Me: (turning to face the audience listening at home) But that's not how it goes! And what a shitty way to start the school year! Where's my coffee? Where's Christine?

And Scene... for reals, this time.

Because I knew I had to survive the first day of school, I put the conversation out of my mind until I could skip over to Christine's room for another rendition of the very popular, highly rated, and sometimes forced (as is the case on the first day of school) comedy hour called The Ginger and Christine Show. (We usually do the 'Ta da!" pose here, but alas, I am typing now which makes spirit fingers very difficult.) So, I go to her room and we decide to make the quarter of a mile trek (not kidding) to the main office to say hello to the office staff and because Mr. A's wonderful secretary told us that she had some money for us to pick up. Off we skip. (Loads of skipping happens in my school.. get it? skipping.. in high school.. HAHAHAHA. Dude. I promise. The only questionable substance in my body right now is Folgers medium/dark roast Colombian coffee with a shot of Cinnamon Vanilla Coffeemate.)

When we get to the office, I see Mr. A for the first time since he made that turbulent comment to me that morning. I poke my head into his office and we have this conversation:

Me: Mr. A, do you really think there can never be peace?

Mr. A: Actually I've thought about it and I think there can be peace.. (long pause) but only if we annihilate all of mankind.

Me: (intake of breath to say something, I'm still not sure what)

Mr. A: No wait. We'd have to get rid of all of the animals, too, because of that whole 'dog eat dog' thing.

Me: (grinning at my own discomfort with the understanding that he's doing this on purpose)

Mr. A: AND we'd have to get rid of all plants too. You know. Venus Fly Traps and what not. (smirks)

Me: (full on smile) So, you're saying that there will only be peace if we get rid of all living things, and the world is a cold, dead rock.

Mr. A: Or if everyone were naked. If everyone were naked, no one would want to fight.

Me: Why? Because they would be too horrified? Or is it because we would all be laughing, pointing at each other, and saying things like, "That can't happen!"

All: (laughter)

So now we have a new bit. Every time I see Mr. A, even in passing, we have a conversation about peace:

"Did you figure it out, yet?"
"Nope. You?"
"Well, what if..."

And I think it's good that we're working on it, even if some of the solutions seem sarcastic or unreasonable. In fact, I love that we're working on it. If only we all were.

And what a great way to start the year!

to be continued..