Trinity 8 P
New member
Tomorrow is the last day of high
school... And I'm fucking doing homework... BUT Look what I wrote in an hour and a half ”I think they are all here, you can go…” -- I was really impressed by the dish room, it seemed to have the most character and the most details and besides in the rest of the rooms everyone was standing in front of me, and as the shortest kid in the class, it wasn’t really my definition of fun. In the dish room however, I was lucky because all the “cool kids”, who grew above five feet by the end of 6th grade and decided that kissing in truth or dare and trying to annoy the teacher is the most fun it can get, were standing in the back of the room talking to their peers about inane issues that usually did not include me in them. The room was red, and next to all the walls were glass bins that contained plates, bowl, silverware, cups, mugs, and glasses, and some times sugar containers, from different presidential terms. I broke away from my group, the instructor’s nasal voice made me tried and I was fascinated by Andrew Jackson’s disturbing eating habits given that the only thing left from his tenure were two plates that were exceptionally scratched in the center. I walked some more around the room and came to the sections of more recent presidents. George W. Bush’s dishes and utensils weren’t there but it must just be because his term isn’t over, in fact it’s just begun, so maybe his collection is not as extensive just yet. In Nixon’s section there weren’t any red decorations, and in Clinton’s section there was a tray that looked like a woman. I started to get a bit tired and after all as interesting as dishes are, getting home was much more compelling. I started walking towards the place were the instructor with the nasal voice stood. He was facing me so I was sure it was him. I came closer to my group and stared at the floor trying to make myself listen to the lectures. “The thing that is most surprising about Jefferson’s dishes is that they are minimal, if you look around you would see that every other president’s dishes there are ornamentations and the shapes vary, Jefferson’s are circular and plat-edged and there are no decorations… just something to keep in mind” It sounded somewhat familiar. I looked up, catching his look. “Hey kid, what are you still doing here?? Your groups left a long time ago.” I looked around; I realized that I don’t know any of the kids that surrounded me, they shared the basic general shape, but the details were different, I could see which ones of them I would dislike. “If I remember their schedule well,” said the nasal voice “they should be leaving right now, run to the parking lot you might still catch them.” I ran. There wasn’t much in the parking lot. I looked at my watch that revealed that it was close to 7 o’clock PM, which means that I was staring at plates for more than an hour. So I went back in, the guard looked at me strangely and opened the door for me, I asked him were there is a phone I could use and he gave me directions to the main office. I didn’t really understand him, but I started walking and the hallways reminded me of the castle in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. Surprisingly enough, I found the office. “Excuse me ma’am, I lost my group… I need a phone… I’m from Blue Hi…”- - - -“Dora, another lost child!”, she yelled to a tall and skinny young woman who stood by what seemed to be a copying-machine. She got closer to me and asked “What is the name of your school, honey?” “Blue Hills Elementary School, it’s in Saratoga, California” She started going through some lists and charts and said, “Your group left, and according to my list I believe it’s their last night in town, which means you might need to spend the night here. But it’s ok, it’s happened before and the child survived. You might want to call your parents … let me speak to them and explain the different payment options” My parents didn’t pick up, which wasn’t surprising but I needed to leave the name, phone number, and address so they would be able to track them and have them pay for my staying. I felt a little guilty. The room was minimal, in the size of my bedroom back home, the curtains and the bed covers were in blue and there was a little desk with the Republican Party platform on it. For the first time I wondered if all the people that work in the White House change every four years and if not than it must be hard for at least some genitors to put those pamphlets on the table every time. I looked around the room and decided that I should make a better use of my time and walk around a little. I got to what seemed to be a row of offices but since I didn’t really know how to get back I kept walking. I then started to hear some very familiar voices but couldn’t really recognize them. As I got closer they sounded more and more familiar and I realized they belonged to no others than President Bush and Vice President Chaney. I was excited. Who would have thought… “So what are we doing tonight Dick?”
school... And I'm fucking doing homework... BUT Look what I wrote in an hour and a half ”I think they are all here, you can go…” -- I was really impressed by the dish room, it seemed to have the most character and the most details and besides in the rest of the rooms everyone was standing in front of me, and as the shortest kid in the class, it wasn’t really my definition of fun. In the dish room however, I was lucky because all the “cool kids”, who grew above five feet by the end of 6th grade and decided that kissing in truth or dare and trying to annoy the teacher is the most fun it can get, were standing in the back of the room talking to their peers about inane issues that usually did not include me in them. The room was red, and next to all the walls were glass bins that contained plates, bowl, silverware, cups, mugs, and glasses, and some times sugar containers, from different presidential terms. I broke away from my group, the instructor’s nasal voice made me tried and I was fascinated by Andrew Jackson’s disturbing eating habits given that the only thing left from his tenure were two plates that were exceptionally scratched in the center. I walked some more around the room and came to the sections of more recent presidents. George W. Bush’s dishes and utensils weren’t there but it must just be because his term isn’t over, in fact it’s just begun, so maybe his collection is not as extensive just yet. In Nixon’s section there weren’t any red decorations, and in Clinton’s section there was a tray that looked like a woman. I started to get a bit tired and after all as interesting as dishes are, getting home was much more compelling. I started walking towards the place were the instructor with the nasal voice stood. He was facing me so I was sure it was him. I came closer to my group and stared at the floor trying to make myself listen to the lectures. “The thing that is most surprising about Jefferson’s dishes is that they are minimal, if you look around you would see that every other president’s dishes there are ornamentations and the shapes vary, Jefferson’s are circular and plat-edged and there are no decorations… just something to keep in mind” It sounded somewhat familiar. I looked up, catching his look. “Hey kid, what are you still doing here?? Your groups left a long time ago.” I looked around; I realized that I don’t know any of the kids that surrounded me, they shared the basic general shape, but the details were different, I could see which ones of them I would dislike. “If I remember their schedule well,” said the nasal voice “they should be leaving right now, run to the parking lot you might still catch them.” I ran. There wasn’t much in the parking lot. I looked at my watch that revealed that it was close to 7 o’clock PM, which means that I was staring at plates for more than an hour. So I went back in, the guard looked at me strangely and opened the door for me, I asked him were there is a phone I could use and he gave me directions to the main office. I didn’t really understand him, but I started walking and the hallways reminded me of the castle in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. Surprisingly enough, I found the office. “Excuse me ma’am, I lost my group… I need a phone… I’m from Blue Hi…”- - - -“Dora, another lost child!”, she yelled to a tall and skinny young woman who stood by what seemed to be a copying-machine. She got closer to me and asked “What is the name of your school, honey?” “Blue Hills Elementary School, it’s in Saratoga, California” She started going through some lists and charts and said, “Your group left, and according to my list I believe it’s their last night in town, which means you might need to spend the night here. But it’s ok, it’s happened before and the child survived. You might want to call your parents … let me speak to them and explain the different payment options” My parents didn’t pick up, which wasn’t surprising but I needed to leave the name, phone number, and address so they would be able to track them and have them pay for my staying. I felt a little guilty. The room was minimal, in the size of my bedroom back home, the curtains and the bed covers were in blue and there was a little desk with the Republican Party platform on it. For the first time I wondered if all the people that work in the White House change every four years and if not than it must be hard for at least some genitors to put those pamphlets on the table every time. I looked around the room and decided that I should make a better use of my time and walk around a little. I got to what seemed to be a row of offices but since I didn’t really know how to get back I kept walking. I then started to hear some very familiar voices but couldn’t really recognize them. As I got closer they sounded more and more familiar and I realized they belonged to no others than President Bush and Vice President Chaney. I was excited. Who would have thought… “So what are we doing tonight Dick?”
