Like a Bull in a China Shop

Since I love commiserating with others over dumb things colleagues do in education, I have to share this story.

This story involves one of the most awkward teachers, no people, I have yet to meet. I mean, in every sense - dress, mannerisms, volume level of voice, tone, everything about how she talks, what she says, everything.  One day in the library, another teacher and I were recording an interview. I'd taped a sign on the door to let people know to be quiet when they entered. This woman came in, walked directly over to us and stood there.  Finally she made a comment about not knowing what was going on but she could wait. As the recorder is still rolling, she asked me her question and left. The other teacher and I exchanged a look, and she as she shook her head she muttered, "Like a bull in a china shop."  We had to start the interview over again.

Back to today.

It is the last day of school for teachers (students ended on Tuesday of this week).  In a spirit of celebration, my beau bought me my two favorite things - pepsi and doritos - to bring in to work to share with people. And he went all out, even getting me both the nacho and the cool ranch flavors.

I get to school and we have a faculty meeting. It gets over and it's only 9 am.  I think, meh, who cares and get some bowls, open the doritos and dump them in.  I set them on a wheelie cart and leave them there for a bit while I do other things. Soon after, a teacher comes in and immediately goes straight for the doritos and eats some then continues on her way to talk to our tech people (who have a small office in the library). She talks with them then heads out.  There is no sign saying help yourself. No one is offering the doritos to people. I'm in plain sight and she didn't ask me or even mention them.

A little while later, she comes back to the library. As she heads straight for the doritos again, she says to the room and not to anyone particularly, "I hope these weren't for a special occasion."  She inserts hand into bowl and as an after thought asks, "Were they?" I begin to attempt to say something like it's a little late for that now, but the words get all twisted and I'm half laughing, incredulously. Instead, after I've taken a breath and can talk again I say, "Thanks for asking. They are for everyone."