School Policy

Fan Club

There's a certain kind of person that seems to follow me around. I'm sure that (almost) everyone has this kind of person. At the risk of seeming immodest, I will refer to this type of person as "the fan."

My fan here, is a woman who works in "concierge office" (a little glass office that houses four or five teacher's assistants and other folks that help out throughout the day.) Her name is Sheila. She is married, probably in her mid-thirties, has two kids and is very tall. She's really a lovely person, but she is one of those that loves to talk to me and is completely unable to just say "hi" and move on.

Last week, she was in charge of getting chaperones for a dance they were having here at school. She asked me if I could be one of her chaperones, which would include staying at school until 1:00 AM and cleaning up afterwards. My response was that I live in Amsterdam. (With the assumed follow-up that getting home by train at 2:00 in the morning would be a nightmare.

Sheila said, "It's okay. We have a spare bedroom. You can stay at our place that night and go back in the morning."

Can you imagine? It would be one of those things that in the late afternoon, when all I wanted to do was take a nap or relax, I regret regret regret my kindness and generosity. Then, later, when I was trapped in The Hague, I would curse myself because there would still be HOURS to go before I could rest, which would be in someone else's bed.

Fortunately, we had tickets for the ballet and a friend in town. I was able to bow out. Hans was not thrilled with the idea and rolled his eyes when I mentioned that I even paused before telling her NO.

Sheila is very sweet, but smokes and talks really close. I wonder why I have been wrangled with one more of these folks. My good friend, Patty, remembers a few from high school, and mentions them to me at every chance. It comes with being a "really nice guy." The problem is that there are other people I would like to talk to (or I would like to just be alone.) I remain that cute guy in the tenth grade who has hangers on and can't shake them. I'm cool enough to be idolized by my fan base, but not cool enough for them to get the hint that I am too cool for them.

Oh the trials of being me.

posted by Philip @ 12:08 PM