Tard birthdays are non-traditional:
Monday was Robert's Birthday. His mom brings in eighty chicken McNuggets
straight from McDonallds. Augusta so excited he started jumping around the
What the hell happened to juice and cookies?
Lunch lady gets the smack down:
The lunch lady at our school is a bitch. Not the cook lady, but the lady who
takes the money. She doesn't realize that the reason she is there is to ensure
that all the kids get a lunch. She is such a had-nosed bitch that if a kid
doesn't have enough money for a lunch, she will give them an office pass to go
call home for money. The obvious solution, at least to those ofus who actually
care about the kids getting food, is to just
allow their account to go negative for a while, until the parents are contacted.
doesn't think so. She caused one of my better tards to completely
lose it today.
Lindsay's account was 35 cents short of a lunch. Thirty-five fucking pennies. The lunch lady throws an office pass her way and tells
her to go call home.
incenses me. NO ONE talks to MY tards in such a rude manner, especially not some
bitch-ass low-rent money counter.
I snatch the office pass from Lindsay and
hand it back to the lady, telling her "Lindsay will get her lunch now, and we will call home
She says no, that the balance must be paid right
then. Lindsay is in tears at this point. She is hugging me, hysterically crying.
She looks at the lunch lady and, in between crying fits, tells her that her mom
spent her last ten dollars on scratch tickets, and none of them were winners.
The fact that the
bitch-ass lunch lady had made Lindsay say this, in front of everyone, was my
breaking point. Riti Sped loses it.
I take off one of my shoes, and slam it down on her little table. I tell her
that she may keep my shoe until I am able to retrieve 35 cents from my
All my tards are staring at
me, completely silent. Lindsay has stopped crying and is staring at
me. I tell her to go get her lunch, that it was OK.
All the tards, for
possibly the first time ever, are completely silent.
Lindsay continues through the line,
and the lunch lady rings up all my kids. She then looks
at me and says that if the 35 cents wasn't in her hand by 1:00, that I would
have to wait and get my shoe back the next day. I rolled my eyes at her and
muttered the usual "Oh, please."
We get back to the room, and the kids can't stop questioning me about my
shoe. You'd think I was William Wallace the way they were dancing around me,
recounting the incident.
I call for the principal and tell him what had just
occurred. I tell
him that her behavior is not OK with me. He agrees, and I ask if he would take
her the 35 cents, and bring me back my shoe. He does, and also has a little talk
No one fucks with Riti Sped or her tards.
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