Afterschool Special of the Week

When I was in the 2nd grade, I had the absolute meanest, nastiest teacher in the entire world, Mrs. Myers. Seriously, this woman had no business being around children because it was obvious that she hated them...and her job as an educator. She had black rings under her eyes and though she was probably in her 50's, she looked more like she was in her late 60's. She reminded us all of an evil witch, and had the long, curly, yellow toenails to prove it, which she kept on display by wearing Winn Dixie flip-flops every day.

I remember that she singled out the only Hispanic boy in the class by making him sit in the very front of the classroom, with his desk touching the chalkboard. One day, he had to go to the bathroom really bad and Mrs. Myers wouldn't let him. He started crying and she still wouldn't let him. He ended up shitting himself, though I don't think anyone laughed at him because we all felt so bad.

She smoked cigarettes in the classroom and always had a drink on her desk. Sure, there was no label to know what was in that drink, but it couldn't be coincidental that every day after lunch, she'd force us to listen to a record with Hawaiian music on it, put our heads down and take a nap. About halfway through the record, she always passed out.

Because I hated the woman and she knew it, she sat me in one of four desks that ran alongside hers. The other kids (Laura, Robert, and Jennifer) who were in the same predicament took thorough advantage of Mrs. Myers' liquor comas. We would squat down, grab our ankles, and walk around the classroom like that, doing silly things to make the other kids laugh. We would throw things at her desk and put our heads down like we'd been that way the whole time. It was the one time in my childhood that I was truly a class clown.

One day, this kid Brandon (who ended up being my first boyfriend ever -- I'll save that story for next week) got in trouble for something, and she made him have lunch in the classroom by himself. While he was there all alone, he whipped out his little weenie and peed all around the carpet by her desk. He never got caught, and was considered a hero by the other kids.

I don't remember learning a single thing in that class. I have no recollection of her standing in front of the classroom and teaching us anything. I wonder whatever happened to that woman. I'm thinking that she either developed lung cancer, cirhosis of the liver, or some other ailment that gave her much pain and took her away from the teaching profession. Such thinking gives me hope that good can prevail over evil.