I made a mistake, Jets.
No, I didn’t heat up a cup in my microwave with no liquid contents in it again. This mistake is a little more significant. I’m not sure if it was naivete, arrogance, or what—but SoakinScott thought as soon as he was ready to rejoin the teacher job-market, the world would be ready. Oh, you’ve put down the booze, got your Masters, and honed your skills working with the autistic youth of America? We’d love you at our school!
That’s not what is happening, guys. Now, to be honest, I don’t think I just deserve a job like some people may feel they are entitled to. I just thought that if I was put face-to-face with an interviewer, that I could get the job. I’m a ray of sunshine, people. My mom says I’m smart because I used to answer some of the Jeopardy questions aloud in front of her. I used to drive a minivan. I’M RESPONSIBLE. That should be enough! Not so fast, Soakin Scott. You have an email:
Wait a hot minute! I can’t even interview? How can I win you over with my charm and irresistible wit if you don’t meet me? The sad thing is that this isn’t the first of these emails I’ve received. And if somebody who is qualified like myself can’t get in the door, I’d imagine there’s a whole lot of people sadly sulking in hot tubs all over the nation.
What a dunce I was to think that I could actually meet somebody. Ugh. I’m using this personal hardship to relate to the similar fate Obama is enduring now with his revolutionary Health Care initiative. 30+ million people needed health care. I’m going to give it to them. he thought. But wait a second! What is this I’m seeing all over social media?
Advertisements?! SHIT. He has to convince people via celebrity to get what they wanted? Welp, whatever the reason is for the lack of participation, apparently Lebron needs to step in. I feel for you, POTUS. It’s like deciding to finally go out dancing and finding out nobody wants to actually come out with you on Saturday night. It’s like having a yard sale of all your stuff where everything is free and nobody comes by. It’s like sneaking into somebody’s backyard to use their hot tub only to find that they have a cover locking it.
Well, not really like that, but that would be terrible. Either way, Barrack and I misplayed our hand.
But let’s get back to the email because this isn’t about politics. It’s about universal rejection. My favorite part of the email is the polite tid-bit at the end about filling out a survey for them. How about this? You fill out MY survey about why I don’t get the chance to strut my skills and I’ll fill out your silly survey. Oh, I shouldn’t have put ‘hot tub enthusiast’ in my OBJECTIVE part of the resume? To each his own.
I’m left with a feeling not too different than one held by another famous African American. Maybe you know him?
Yeah, this album is dedicated to all the teachers
That told me I’d never amount to nothin’
To all the people that lived above the buildings that I was hustlin’
In front of that called the police on me when I was just tryin’
To make some money to feed my daughter
To all my peoples in the struggle, you know what I’m sayin’?
It’s all good baby, baby, check it
Notorious B.I.G., Jets. But I need help formulating my future B.I.G. life-plan. See, Biggy just wanted to get rich and famous so he could go back and say “Jokes on you, teacher-man. I wipe my ass with 20s.”
But what do I do? I am the teacher! How do I get revenge on all these people who said I’d never amount to… teachin’? I don’t think I”m going to make millions teaching symbolism to 9th graders. So, I obviously can’t show up to a few peoples’ houses sprinkling 100-dollar bills on their doorsteps. Maybe I get “big” by setting up my own school of super-geeks who are powerful and attribute all their successes to their beloved teacher, Mr. McGinn? I mean, I guess that would show them they fucked with the wrong guy but not really in the way I want. They’d probably congratulate me or some shit. Tell me I’m doing a good job mentoring these savants. But who wants that type of smiley praise after they’ve been rejected via email? Not this guy. I’m thinking something more devious. I’m going to go out of my way to win Teacher of the Year and when they interview me I’m going to say something like “I don’t even like kids, how do you like that shit!” and stare right into the camera and list off all the names of the people who got in the way of my struggle.
Until then, I guess I’ll have to finally heed to my father’s advice of ‘hittin’ the pavement’ and ‘knocking down doors’ trying to get my ‘foot in the door.’ Seriously? I think those days are over, Dad. I can’t imagine just going into a building, asking for the CEO, and saying with a straight face “I’ve got 5 dollars in my pocket and I have no experience but I’m going to be the hardest damn worker you’ve ever seen if you just give me the opportunity.”
They’d either call the police or say, “That’s strange. You’re the 14th person who has tried this today.”