Quitting, pt. 2
Quite a few of the teachers were screening the presidential inauguration in their classrooms. I stopped and watched it for a few seconds. It seemed a big deal.
“Today is your last day on the job,” said one of the teachers. “Yours – and Obama’s.” We stood a little while, shaking our heads, tisking.
My last shift wasn’t more strenuous than usual, but it wasn’t easy, either. One teacher asked me to digitally scan more than 100 pages of a hefty volume. Other teachers dropped off a great jumble of course texts – Scarlet Letters, Of Mice and Mens, To Kill a Mockingbirds – for me to sort and put away. Others made last-minute photocopying requests. Others, I had to train in the ordering of supplies.
Two teachers, old men, were quite sad to see me leave. I offered to join them one day for a meal at their favorite nearby restaurant, the Oaken Bucket.
Then, very weary, I turned in my keys and left the high school. I stopped at the public library to visit Mary, who was working at the circulation desk. She was about to go to lunch.
I told her about my last shift at the high school.
“In honor of your quitting your job,” she said, “would you like me to buy you lunch?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“The Oaken Bucket,” I said. “No. Just kidding. Subway.”
After lunch, I went home, collapsed into an armchair, and snuggled with the kitties. From the indoors, I enjoyed the mist – my favorite weather.
“Today is your last day on the job,” said one of the teachers. “Yours – and Obama’s.” We stood a little while, shaking our heads, tisking.
My last shift wasn’t more strenuous than usual, but it wasn’t easy, either. One teacher asked me to digitally scan more than 100 pages of a hefty volume. Other teachers dropped off a great jumble of course texts – Scarlet Letters, Of Mice and Mens, To Kill a Mockingbirds – for me to sort and put away. Others made last-minute photocopying requests. Others, I had to train in the ordering of supplies.
Two teachers, old men, were quite sad to see me leave. I offered to join them one day for a meal at their favorite nearby restaurant, the Oaken Bucket.
Then, very weary, I turned in my keys and left the high school. I stopped at the public library to visit Mary, who was working at the circulation desk. She was about to go to lunch.
I told her about my last shift at the high school.
“In honor of your quitting your job,” she said, “would you like me to buy you lunch?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“The Oaken Bucket,” I said. “No. Just kidding. Subway.”
After lunch, I went home, collapsed into an armchair, and snuggled with the kitties. From the indoors, I enjoyed the mist – my favorite weather.