The Costanza Shuffle

My school is just weird. There's no other way to explain it. The next time my crew (in white people talk: people I know and count as friends), are in Springfield we're all going to the school and I'll give you a tour of the madness. But that same madness plays into today's story.

Let me describe for you my school, it consists of one and a half buildings. "Half a building? The hell you say? " Well, at first we were just one building, then we started renting/purchasing parts of an adjacent building. We now own almost the entire second floor, two classrooms sandwich the remaining office on the level. For some reason (old folks would say I have a bit of the devil in me, psychologists call it complete and utter disreguard for the concequences of my actions), I decided to do the doorbell ditch on this particular office. You see we're pretty well warned off messing with it.

Despite that, I figured it'd be pretty funny to knock really hard on the door repeatedly and run away. Step One of the plan involved forming my hand into a fist and knocking like I'm on fire trying to get into the pool. This was the only part of the plan that went smoothly. Part Two was running away. I begin to bolt down the hallway when who should come around the corner but the Dean of my campus. I paused for a beat and wondered at my own bad luck. So I had to turn around and run back past the very same door I knocked. I did this just as I heard a hand on the handle.

Fortunately my cubicle (I'm the editor of the school Pap') was just through the next set of doors to my left. So I dodged inside, and not wanting to be seen I went the extra mile and dove under my desk and pulled the chair in. I spent a good 2-3 minutes in there waiting for the heat to die down and telling my stomach to quit rumbling so loudly. When I finally decided it was a good time to come out who should come by but the lady who runs our bookstore who was showing what looked to be some parents of prospective students (or at any rate, adults on a tour of the school) the office. They had paused right at my cubicle and saw me uncurling myself and crawling out from under the desk. Once again I paused and contemplated the ludicrous nature of the entire string of events. I then mumbled something to the effect of: "Ah, finally fixed that computer."

They just looked at me like I had asked them if their mothers breast fed or not. Awkwardly the bookstore lady either said or implied "Aaaaaanyway, let's move on with the tour." I could see both as having happened. I eventually just went back to class. Today was special, because I think I've learned something that I can use the rest of my life: It usually pays to set a lookout.

Now I'm off to see Keanu Reeves play Neo as a Goth kid. I'll be sure to let you all know if Constantine sucks as bad as Autumn In New York.

- Scott