I’m pretty sure I made it back to Physics, because I remember having my hand in ice on top of one of my lab desk. Then I remember my friend walking me to Trigonometry, which was our next class, when Physics ended. He deposited me against the lockers where two of our friends were waiting for Trig to start and told them that I was pretty out of it. I WAS pretty out of it, I know that.
I stumbled into Trig a few minutes later and the teacher, who was also my pole vaulting coach, asked me what was wrong. I told him that I wasn’t feeling very well. He told me that I could go to the nurse if I wanted to, but I knew it would look fishy if I went to see the nurse again. I took my seat and put my head down. I noticed that I was sweating, and that my sweat had taken on a minty aroma. This triggered a wave of nasuea and bile, which was also unfortunately minty, at the back of my throat .
A few minutes into the lesson I stood up, told the teacher I was going to sleep, and laid down on the floor. I heard him say, “Does anyone know what’s wrong with ACW?” and another friend, Nick, who had been in Physics with me said, “We’re pretty sure he drank a bottle of scope on a bet about an hour ago.”
I prepared myself for the beating of a lifetime. I was in an all-male Catholic high school and it was well within the rights of our teachers and administrators to smack us around if the felt it was necessary. On top of that, my Trig teacher was a brother of the religious order that ran our school, and those brothers were renowned for being especially violent. What? Don’t you think that Jesus beat the ever-loving crap out of the disciples from time to time? How else would they know that he loved them?
“Well, let him sleep then. And let me know if he needs to go to the hospital. I don’t want to clean up anything he might not keep down.”
I slept the sleep of the insane. I was only half-asleep the whole time, and images of Trig kept invading my minty-fresh consciousness. It was like Donald in Mathmagic Land, but none of the numbers made any sense. My head was spinning, and I kept imagining that people were calling the police to get me. I was paranoid, and with every breath I made myself more sick and a little more crazy. Finally class was over and a friend helped me get to the gym. I had one free period left before the end of the day, but we weren’t allowed to sleep anywhere at school, even if we were on a free period. I groggily put on my track uniform and crawled in between the pole-vaulting mats and the mat cover.
It was so warm under there. The mats had been baking in the sun all day, and smelled of warm plastic. For the first time in hours, I smelled something other than mint. I got almost an hour of sleep before I was awakened by a muppet.
As my eyes adjusted to the light I realized that the muppet was just my Trig teacher/track coach, and that he was peering at me under the mat cover so that I could only see his comically large glasses, bulbous nose, and Ron Jeremy-esque mustache.
“Feeling better?”
“Uh, yes sir. I’ll go get my pole.”
“Ever going to drink something with a poison control label on the side of it?”
“No sir.”
“Ever going to sleep in my class again?”
“No sir.”
“Good.”
He ripped the mat cover off of me and made me run laps until I was sober.
I’ve never been so drunk so quickly in all my life. I’ve also never gone so quickly from drunk to hungover, nor have I had such a severe hangover clear up so quickly. I wouldn’t recommend it, but if you’re short on cash, it makes for an interesting few hours.
My mom spent most of her career as a math teacher, and so I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve seen “Donald in Mathmagicland.” I think she had it on video, and for some reason I watched it at least once a year at home, not to mention once a year in math. And yet, I’d totally forgotten about it until you just brought it up. Hilarious.
Anyway, I’m off to the firm’s bathroom, wherein lies a giant container of Scope. I will be chugging at least half of it. This afternoon looks better already!
my friends and i used to take large quantities of tylenol pm.
it has hallucinogenic effects if done correctly.
now if only there was a walgreens near by….
Brilliant. I did the same thing when I was about 15, but with a bottle of cough medecine.
Ha ha. Yep. A swift jog is the best, quickest (but possibly the most painful) way to cure a hangover. This is why that tactic ended after freshman year of college.
Thank you for the Donald in Mathmagic land reminder. That video was awesome.
you are hysterical - love your blog.
marry me?
no?
ok, well, i’ll still read your blog. plus my boyfriend would be pissed.
Wow…that was pretty calm on the Brother end. I’m a Catholic school vet. I almost went to an all girls Catholic high school but the all male high school integrated with us my freshman year.
In second grade the principal was a Brother…. Brother Tom. I saw him kick a fifth grader in the ass when we were lined up outside to file into the building one morning. He terrified my little girl soul…. Brother Don, the sophomore class geography teacher was prone to these crazy, out of nowhere outbursts where he’d throw desks around, yell and turn beet red. He’d go right back into his announcer style voice and chat about topographical maps or what not the next minute.
Crazy stuff. I don’t know if I should thank you or not for bringing back these much repressed memories!
And you lived to tell the tale. Well done :)
Cool teacher, for not turning you in.
Ha, Can’t believe you didn’t get in trouble! hilarious story though.
Your last comment reminded me of the homeless guy I saw at the grocery store one day… He was trying to buy Scope for the alcohol. But he was two cents short. The cashier wouldn’t let him buy it (thank goodness for that).