Storytelling

Art Teacher

Art class.

This room has so many memories, man. Like no joke. The teacher seems pretty chill, but he's kind of... What's the word? Oh yeah.

A bald nigga with no emotion.

Jk. He's, by far, my favorite teacher. My core teachers suck wrinkly saggy ass with poop nuggets hanging on ass hair. They're that bad.

So back to art class.

I remember I was there afterschool with a bunch of other preppy ass conformists, and I was eating ramen. I went to throw away my trash, and, well... This is what went down.

*Gets ready to throw trash away*

*Throws in empty bowl*

*Chopsticks are still in hand*

*Stares at chopsticks*

*Art teacher walks up to me*

*I stare at him*

*He stares at me*

"..."

"......"

"............"

".................. Yo-"

*Decides to throw chopsticks in*

*He sighs*

I SWEAR. I DIDN'T KNOW HE WAS GONNA TELL ME SOMETHING. It was more awkward and funnier in person. Trust me. Plus, I don't think he forgave me for that.

Also, I remember this other time. So I was casually talking to Megan on our way to Band, during the five minute intermission they give you to pass in between classes. And we had this convo about how my friend got a B in his class. She heard him say, and I quote:

"The bald bitch gave me a B."

And then titties.

Okay, last one.

I'm in an art class period with a bunch of idiots.

There are 6 sections, aparrently, and not in tables. No no. Personality.

There's the Outcasts, the Nerds, the Otakus, the Unartistic Jocky Assholes, the Preps, and the Loud Ones.

Unfortunately, me and two other girls got stuck in the Loud Ones table.

THEY FUCKING IRRITATE ME. This one girl, she keeps asking me for money. The other, she laughs too loud. The other, she makes a lot of racist jokes. And one guy, he just kinda outbursts randomly. Like one moment, he could be quiet, and then the next, he could be spewing out shit like an ass volcano. And another, she's just too bubbly. SHE CALLED MY TASTE IN MUSIC EMO. LIKE BITCH, THE CORRECT TERM IS ALTERNATIVE ROCK.

This is why, I usually go over to the Outcasts table. There's an artist, a band geek, a wannabe prep, and a loud one on that table. Somehow, they just didn't make it to the usual clique.

So I remember the Prep and the Loud One talking about this girl getting fingered in a car full of guys and how she's in our grade. And silently, I'm like. Wtf.

So the artist on that table agrees with me, pathologically, as if we're twins.

So then, they keep talking about the girl getting fingered, and the Loud One starts making over exaggerated sex noises.

Like. Okay, cool.

And the art teacher. Guess what he does.

"Tiffany, shut up. Listen to the perspective lesson. Talk about that later."

He emphasizes 'that' and I can't help myself but laugh. So me and the band geek start shooting insults like "crusty vagina" and whatnot.

I love art class.