terrakotta

Do you know the importance of a Sky-page-AH?!

So today John, you know, that guy who basted me with guilt sauce about his having to attend therapy and not being able to date after the I-dont-date-people-I-work-with fiasco earlier this year? Well, I may have to kill him. Actually, I CANT kill him, now that Ive told all of you about it, but perhaps I will wish really hard that he catches some sort of nasty stomach virus.

We share the same prep period, which happened to be first period today. I was at one of the computers in the teachers lounge, and he was wandering around the room, viciously patronizing his nave student teacher and making wise cracks all around. Then, out of nowhere, he came up to me and put his arm snuggly around me. OKAY FIRST OF ALL, dont touch me. SECOND OF ALL he put his face right next to mine and said to me, not in a whisper but in a regular voice, Your ass is hanging out of those pants. I freaked. What?! I said, and put my hand on the back of my pants. He gave me a sneer and sauntered out of the room. My ass was NOT hanging out of my pants, but the way I was sitting at the computer, my sweater had pulled up a bit, revealing a smidgen of my back. Even if my pants had been a little low, which they werent, my underpants were snug against my lower back. Now, if he had whispered this comment, I might have thought he was telling me for my own good (kind of like when you tell a friend s/he has spinach between the teeth), but the fact that he has been so passively-aggressive with me over the past month AND had spoken it loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear makes me think he was just trying to make me self-conscious, which it did for a second.

I finished my typing and moved to the end of the work table, ass facing the wall. John came back in and walked over to me, making it obvious he was looking at the back of my pants. I ignored him (what was he pretending to be? The fucken clothes police???!) and decided not to give him the satisfaction. Meanwhile, the smokin-hot student teacher I mentioned earlier in September came in to make a few photocopies, and he turned on what I now recognize as the charm. Little does he know, shes a lesbian. A BIG LESBIAN. And I will get my own amusement when he finally decides to try to ask her out. Until then, I will have to continue to wince when I hear his sadist comments to his intern its a little like a demented version of Secretary, except in this case, she doesnt appear to be gleaning any pleasure from the exchange.

That being said, I no longer feel responsible for any self-esteem issues or whatever crap he laid on me last month. But I can say that he MAY have some self-esteem issues when I staple his fingers the next time he tries to touch me!

PS: JakeyPooh- I am so blown away that you remembered that story about my sister leaving the cash behind the empty liquor bottles! I was just looking at the empty Sambuca bottle yesterday (yeah, I don't know why it's still in my pantry either) and I am still pissed about that!