  this is from Jace.... You know, I feel a little weird muscling in (a laughable thought if you've ever seen me) on Robyn's coloumn, but it was a such a brilliant idea that I thought I should do it too. However, I didn't want to copy my friend or steal the idea, so I decided to join her instead. And she was gracious enough to allow me an occasional (yeah, right, I'll wear out my welcome in a matter of hours) cameo. So I was at work today, driving pizza around, and I had to take an order to Sir John A Macdonald School. Now I've never been there before, but apparently, it was one of three schools in the same parking lot thingy. It was dark, and the damned schools don't have lights, and I was like "Uh, where is it?".
So I stop to ask this kid. He was like twelve, small, typicial nerdy looking kid (ok, he was me when I was that young), sitting waiting for the bus. I rolled down my window to ask him, and he took three leaps back from my car. Like I was going to try and entice him into my tiny ass Samurai with pizza or something. Can't fault the kid though, he was being smart. Anyway, so I'm like "Hey, where's Deifenbaker (another of the schools there).
" He pointed behind me and hollered "there. " That's when my brain (which is usually a few seconds behind my mouth) kicked in and told that I already knew where Deif was (I had driven Meghan there several times). So I tried again. "I mean MacDonald. " The kid pointed even further behind me to the other side of Deif to where the Macdonalds restaurant and the Seven Eleven were. "It's back there, the Big Yellow M gives it away.
" Inwardly I groaned, but the kid had wit. In spite of myself, I grinned. "The school, Sir John A. " I clarified. He threw a backward gesture to the other brown brick cube on the corner. "I can't get there from southbourn 4th St, can I?
" The kid shook his head. "Nope, you'll have to go around. " So I turned around (going out the in ramp and diving over a few curbs) and went north on 4th, turned right onto 68th Ave to center and south to 64th, and then drove right past the entrance I needed to use, so I had to do it all again. As much fun as driving in circles truly is, not so much when you're paid by the delivery. So I finally get to the place, and get out of the car with the six larges, and I get swamped by dozens of chest high kids all shouting out for pizza. I would have beaten them to pulp with my tire iron if I had had a free hand, but I finally got inside to the main office.
There I met a teacher in gym shorts and wearing a whistle around her neck (can you say humina humina humina) and I was looking for a Wade Copper. Now I've known females named Wade before (ever see Sliders? ), so I was hoping that she was the one. Nope, turned out to be a bigger version the directions kid from the bus stop (I shudder to think that that would be me if I lived that long, which I won't) And his name was Cooper, not Copper. Some retard at work doesn't know how to spell. And her name starts with L and rhymes with Xena.
Anyway, one of the other teachers got at the pizza and snagged a slice before Mr Cooper showed, but he caught the guy eating it when he came in. He gave me a dirty look. "I'm not paying for it if it's got a slice missing. " I groaned. He looked serious, and it was a sixty dollar bill. Then he smiled and gave me seventy bucks.
SCORE. So I boogied (as in hurried, not as in 'EWWWW, Pick yer nose') back to the store and in the parking lot in front of the store, there are rows that people are supposed to park in that are contained by cement islands (Kurt knows what Im talking about, he used to work there, in fact, he got me my job there), and when the lots filled, people sometimes park on the other side of the islands in the place where you drive through. So theres this woman driving a burgundy Buick Regal parked on the outside, and instead of pulling out foward and merging into the lane, she backs into one of the aisles. Only she doesn't know the dementions of her car, and she backs right into the ass end of a parked brand new, all clean and shiny blue Monte Carlo. Ouch. I see this as I drive past, and I'm like "Whoa, that's gotta suck.
" but you know what happened then? Yep, that's right. The bitch drove away, dragging a peice of the other car's bumper along with her. I was livid. But I was too far away to get her liscence number, and the lot was so blocked I couldn't hang a louie and follow her. It was nuts.
Well, there is it, my first (and hopefully not last) cameo into the wild world of Robynism. Quack. Signed: The Angry Mallard Duck. 
