The following passage is based on actual accounts of a substitute teacher.
After an abbreviated stent of service in the U.S.A. military as a pilot and officer, Mrs. Beeswax's middle school math class couldn't be that tough. Besides, its not like the school is in "the ghetto", just majority skewed towards the African-American, Latino and other minority community in a urban setting. Plus, this is his hometown.
Mr. Bell allowed the last song of my morning commute to end before exiting the car and entering the school building. From the driver seat he could see the students filing into the school, greeting each other excitedly after only being home since the bell rang yesterday afternoon. A principal was outside, so they move quickly in disarray and horseplay; not to cut up too much to cause to much of a disturbance.
Entering the building he was hit with a sense of nostalgia, because not too long ago he was a student too and his youthful appearance says so. He checked in and before he can get the class roster, the principal has two student's in the office. She coldly tells the students to call their parents one after the other, because it is simply too early for their lack of behavior. She turns with a warm smile complimenting her brown eyes and butter-pecan skin to greet him. Radiating beauty she says "Good morning, you must be the sub for Mrs.Beeswax. Thank you for coming in today. How old are you, you look like a student? I'm Mrs. May, the Principal. Good luck." Mrs. May quickly pivoted back to discipline the two hooligans with the early special. The principal's perfume flirtatiously consumed Mr.Bell. The front office peanut gallery chimes in with their banter about looks and how they have kids older them him. He received the roll from the attendance working, nods respectfully at the group of middle aged women and says "Thank you, I shave."
The halls of the school are laced with powder blue lockers. Where lockers aren't, the wall is decorated with educational posters and student work.
Before class starts the students prepare for the day. Some are at their lockers getting books and materials need for class. Others are shuffling into the classroom before 1st period. Mean while a few miscreants loose their God given minds. One tween can be overheard boasting about the new shoes she got the previous week on her birthday. Two husky boys push pass Mr.Drum in a playful manner, seeming to have completely not noticed they bumped anyone. WTF gargled in his throat but never made it passed his lips.
Walking down the halls to Mrs.Beeswax's math class, Drum obviously not a regular to the school due to the excessive questioning by students "Are you a teacher, you look like kid" and the contorted looks on many of their faces, even some of the staff. Luckily for the blind, he's 6 foot 2 in middle school and has a sticker name tag reading "SUBSTITUTE TEACHER"!!!!