So its summer 1991 in the quaint town of Raleigh NC and I’m fresh off a year long stint at your local neighborhood high school. That year was special. It was filled with French class antics and other Sophomore tom foolery.  My summer love at the time was Tennis…so everyday I would play tennis in the park league and sometimes after practice, hop in the public pool near the park.

One day, however, I see something that will scar me for life, My French teacher….not as a patron, but as a worker…a lifeguard at the public pool. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking right now….”So?”.  Well, Lifeguards aren’t usually called Mr. and are referred to by first name….and usually younger…and female….and hot…or at least the ones I pay attention to.

We see each other and speak. Someone refers to him as his first name. He responds.  My partner in crime, also a student of his, uses his first name. He responds.  I state the question: “So I can call you by your first name? huh?”.  He says yes.

Summer’s over.  Back to school. First week of school we see him.  We refer to him using his first name and he threatens to give us detention if we call him that again.   Seemed pretty unfair at the time.

…so what the !@#$ is that supposed to mean?

Teachers have it bad.  Low pay, zero social lives, dangerous work environments and now, if they have second/summer jobs, at the mercy of student patrons.  Looking back I know realize my teacher deserved to be called “Mr”, even at the public pool.

I was wrong….and now I get to blog about it.