Anthony's night out
As a direct consequence of many of the more arcane mechanisms by which the bizarre entity referred to as my school operates, I was required to give up two and a bit hours of my time this evening to guide people from the car park to the hall, give a good impression and answer odd questions. (It was the new third years' parents' briefing on how this little corner of the world works, and as the prefect for a third-form I was there as an axillary for Mr Ford, who will be my form's form tutor. He himself was not in fact there. This shall lead to much hilarity later on.)
I expected this to be dull and drudgerous, which was probably not a word until I just typed it but really should be.
I was wrong.
The first activity, as I have already mentioned, involved ferrying parents down from the car park to the main hall, where they were to be plied with tea and biscuits and other such niceties until the number of parents reached a critical mass and the shop-talking could begin. What I didn't mention, however, was quite how competitive some of my colleagues were as to the numbers of parents successfully escorted, and how upset they all were that I escorted more than they did. Because I am that cool. Yes.
After playing at meet-and-greet, we bimbled down to the hall ourselves, only to discover that all of the biscuits had been treacherously cleared away. I was consoled, however by several rather amusing conversations, which I shall relate because they are rather amusing and although you're not technically a captive audience I can't tell that your eyes are glazing over as you read this sentence and that actually you're no longer interested so I can type whatever I want.
1) Mr Terrell: "You're mine for the evening, Anthony."
It turned out that he was representing Mr Ford in absentia, although without the stepladder which would have made his disguise somewhat more convincing.
2) Me: "Dr Tanner, are you impersonating Mr Terrell impersonating Mr Ford?"
Mrs Gould: "No. Mr Terrell is impersonating Mr Ford. Dr Tanner is impersonating Dr Tanner."
Dr Tanner: "I just teleported over from the other side of the room."
Mrs Gould: "He's not doing a very good job, though. He doesn't quite look like Dr Tanner usually does. They're slightly different."
The third amusing conversation was between myself and Loom (usually known as Tom) and Mrs Gould and was all about setting fire to unexpected things in interesting ways, and the fourth, which occoured during the third, was between Mr Terryl and Mrs Gould and was on the subject of throwing plates, specifically at the Headmaster who was still giving his speech.
I should mention at this point because I have thus far neglected to do so and it is important that the Abbey was not in fact on fire.
(This isn't entirely a non sequiteur; smoke was coming out of it and there were lots of firemen running around watering the flowerbeds with pressure hoses and trampling on the grass. However, I am reliably told that it was just a drill, which, though less exciting, is somewhat relieving.)
The other interesting thing that was said was that apparently one of Loom's parents (not biologically; one of the parents that he shepherded) apparently cracked a joke about the abbey being on fire and the fact that as the abbey is made of stone and there is very little in there that is actually flammable the source of the smoke was probably the priest being set alight. This was in fact how the conversation with Mrs Gould was started. Don't you just love non-linear narratives?)
Following that the speeches finally ended and everyone split off to their respsective form rooms and did more talking and to answer questions etcetera, and apart from having a niggling feeling that I knew two of the parents already not much happened other than me being somewhat amused at how well certain parents seemed to fit in to the stereotypes. Afterwards, however, Mr Terrell ran over a cone which became trapped under one of his wheels until my headmaster exhibited one of less well-known talents and not only rescued it but also performed very effective first aid.
And that, essentially, is that.
I expected this to be dull and drudgerous, which was probably not a word until I just typed it but really should be.
I was wrong.
The first activity, as I have already mentioned, involved ferrying parents down from the car park to the main hall, where they were to be plied with tea and biscuits and other such niceties until the number of parents reached a critical mass and the shop-talking could begin. What I didn't mention, however, was quite how competitive some of my colleagues were as to the numbers of parents successfully escorted, and how upset they all were that I escorted more than they did. Because I am that cool. Yes.
After playing at meet-and-greet, we bimbled down to the hall ourselves, only to discover that all of the biscuits had been treacherously cleared away. I was consoled, however by several rather amusing conversations, which I shall relate because they are rather amusing and although you're not technically a captive audience I can't tell that your eyes are glazing over as you read this sentence and that actually you're no longer interested so I can type whatever I want.
1) Mr Terrell: "You're mine for the evening, Anthony."
It turned out that he was representing Mr Ford in absentia, although without the stepladder which would have made his disguise somewhat more convincing.
2) Me: "Dr Tanner, are you impersonating Mr Terrell impersonating Mr Ford?"
Mrs Gould: "No. Mr Terrell is impersonating Mr Ford. Dr Tanner is impersonating Dr Tanner."
Dr Tanner: "I just teleported over from the other side of the room."
Mrs Gould: "He's not doing a very good job, though. He doesn't quite look like Dr Tanner usually does. They're slightly different."
The third amusing conversation was between myself and Loom (usually known as Tom) and Mrs Gould and was all about setting fire to unexpected things in interesting ways, and the fourth, which occoured during the third, was between Mr Terryl and Mrs Gould and was on the subject of throwing plates, specifically at the Headmaster who was still giving his speech.
I should mention at this point because I have thus far neglected to do so and it is important that the Abbey was not in fact on fire.
(This isn't entirely a non sequiteur; smoke was coming out of it and there were lots of firemen running around watering the flowerbeds with pressure hoses and trampling on the grass. However, I am reliably told that it was just a drill, which, though less exciting, is somewhat relieving.)
The other interesting thing that was said was that apparently one of Loom's parents (not biologically; one of the parents that he shepherded) apparently cracked a joke about the abbey being on fire and the fact that as the abbey is made of stone and there is very little in there that is actually flammable the source of the smoke was probably the priest being set alight. This was in fact how the conversation with Mrs Gould was started. Don't you just love non-linear narratives?)
Following that the speeches finally ended and everyone split off to their respsective form rooms and did more talking and to answer questions etcetera, and apart from having a niggling feeling that I knew two of the parents already not much happened other than me being somewhat amused at how well certain parents seemed to fit in to the stereotypes. Afterwards, however, Mr Terrell ran over a cone which became trapped under one of his wheels until my headmaster exhibited one of less well-known talents and not only rescued it but also performed very effective first aid.
And that, essentially, is that.