Congratulations, You're Pre-Fired

"Regarding your dead husband, I assure you, Mrs. Buttle, the Ministry is very scrupulous about following up and eradicating any error. If you have any complaints which you'd like to make, I'd be more than happy to send you the appropriate forms."

Today I felt like I was in a very boring version of the Terry Gilliam film BRAZIL.

Today, I had a moment of understanding. I finally experienced a taste of the feeling that people who get fired from their jobs experience. I understood what a satisfying release it would be to take a high gauge shotgun and empty it into one's former supervisors and co-workers who cowardly huddle at the feet of the big boss man who tosses them money and such. I don't think that I can say that I was actually fired because I hadn't actually started the job. Nor was I fired by the people who hired me. I was Pre-fired.

Brief backstory. I hustled my ass, a very good friend went out of her way to help me get a chance to show off my teaching style. It went swimmingly. The school wanted me and I was embraced and given the job at a great school with the age group of kids that I wanted in the location that I wanted. So then it's just a matter of getting registered at (spooky raspy voice) The District Office. If they had a motto it should be "Where beaucracy and evil meet to crush your hope.*"

But back to the brief backstory. I'll do it in Tarzan style so I won't ramble on. Here goes. ME DO DEMO LESSON. ME GET GOOD JOB. SCHOOL NICE. HAVE WORK 2 MONTHS AT NICE SCHOOL. NORMAL TEACHER IS AWAY MAKING A BABY. ME TEACHER FRIEND WORK NEXT DOOR. SCHOOL GOOD. DISTRICT ADMINISTRATION BAD.

Okay so I've earned this job and done a full hands on lesson with the group of students and It went great. So they school handpicked me to fill in for a few months. There are not many good schools in LA and this is one of them. Just need to turn in my paperwork so I can get processed. There was more paperwork than NASA would require from an astronaut. I won't bore you with the details. But I was running all over to get all these things. Did I mention that they already gave me the job. Yeah, so after bringing everything but the kitchen fucking sink, they tell me "Oh, we need this other form." I have to come back again. I went back today. I have brought the kitchen sink and every piece of paper in my file cabinet and had a complete physical, blood work and a T.B. test done again... so it can be on their paperwork.

I hope this isn't boring. I'll get really angry and rant at the end, I promise. You can skip to that if you like. So after all this I am back the second day with letters of recommendation, medical evaluations, student teaching evaluation forms note from my mommy etc... I've got to get re-re-finger printed (for the third time) so it can be on their forms. All this shit at my personal expense. The person who heads up this District Office tells me that she's sorry but they shouldn't have processed me because I don't have my credential yet. My masters degree and credential will be mine in two weeks. She approved it and is now simply changing her mind. So yank the rug out from under me-- I don't have a job. I jumped through flaming hoops of shit for days getting this stuff together, canceling tutoring to do so and now she says I don't have a job. Resisting the urge to take the emergency fire axe and paint the office halls a nice shade of crimson, I express my frustration verbally.

Well, sorry, kranki. We can offer you a job as a secondary substitute at some random school we pull out of our ass that nobody in their right fucking mind wants to teach at. How does that sound." Junior High Hormones or High School Guns. Hmmm... did I just spend 30 thousand dollars to get a Masters Degree in Elementary Education? I think so. Yes, yes, I did. So she's going to "see what she can do." I stood there stunned by the incompetence that I had been pre-warned about, but was still not prepared for the idea that after a year of school and student (free) teaching with 3.96 GPA you excrement humpers. (not you, them) What you do with your mother is entirely your business.

Well, she says, (probably just so I didn't kill her on the spot) "Call me tomorrow morning and "no promises" but "I'll see if there is anything I can do."

On a totally unrelated topic I am now looking to get hold of a large amount of C4 Plastic Explosive and a few dozen detonators capable of taking out say... a nineteen story modern office building that houses minions of evil. Sure some innocents will perish in the massive ball of flames, but I spent enough time there to say conclusively that they're really quite a boring bunch of people and don't contribute anything to the greater good or culture of our planet. Especially the random guy who walked up to me while I was talking to Satan's henchbitch and gave me a few very hearty pats on the back. WhatTheFuck? And WhoTheFuck? I think that guy will get his very own personal explosive fixed securely to his head with his cheap, ugly neck tie. Or perhaps he'll be one of the lucky few who has their skull shattered and brain juice spattered by the claw hammer I'm bringing with me. In fact I'll be doing the Bush Administration by creating thousands of jobs. And they'll have to rebuild it so that will be thousands more jobs. I have no hope that this woman is going to do anything but try and stick me in a High School in Compton.


Int. Crenshaw High School - day

SFX: Bell Rings

Mr. Krankiboy: Okey dokey, folks. Please settle down ladies and gents. I'm your substitute teacher Mr. White-boy Honkey Cracker who will soon get jumped, carjacked, beaten with a tire iron and left for dead in the parking lot when all I wanted to do was be a really creative and inspiring fourth grade teacher." Who wants to learn about Ancient Rome?


*I'm still thinking of an appropriate logo for the District Office. Perhaps the image of Office Zombies eating the hearts of eager and aspiring young teachers. Or a maybe a sharpened pencil being forcefully jabbed into somebody's bloody rectum.

http://www.trond.com/brazil/sound/assure.wav