The day started with Bill Withers' as I jumped into what I hoped would be my own Lovely Day. Sadly, my upbeat morning routine came to an end with the crack of lightning. Immediately, I leapt out of the shower and the shampoo in my eyes instantly ruined the fun. Growing up, Mama always told me not to shower in a thunderstorm.
I checked the clock; 6 minutes late, not too bad. I bolted down the stairs, past the leaky ceiling tile on 3W, dipped through the caution tape in the parking deck and started up Betsy, my trusty '98 Toyota Camry. I flew down Maine St. towards Colombia High, fueled by "Barracuda" and made it with thirty five seconds to spare. An hour of early morning rounds later, the bell rang signaling the start of first period. I took my chance and dashed to the janitors closet, the one next to the boys bathroom in the freshman wing.
I fished around in the cabinet I had cleverly labeled "Marshal's Cleaning Stuff" and unearthed the old "Let's Get it On" CD. Call me old fashioned for using a discman, but it was a memento from Dad. Not like he was there for me, always on tour, but without him I never would've known the power of song.
When that magic disc spun I was taken to a place like no other, Senior Prom back when I attended Colombia High. I grabbed the hand of the nearest lady, which happened to be the still damp mop leaning against the shelve. I cranked up the volume and the music took control.
When we dipped, we dipped. When we swooped oh did we swoop, and I was about to seal the night with a kiss, when I was rudely interrupted. In my unabashed sweeper passion, I failed to notice the smitten student who had opened the door. The boy had come to tell me a kid had caught the flu next door and his breakfast had come out to play.
At the end of the day I got called to the Vice Principal's office. Apparently, a grown man slow dancing with a mop, is considered "inappropriate" on school grounds. I'm sure if they knew what I was listening to, they'd understand. But anyways, they said if there's another incident, I'll "never be seen again." Ok, maybe they didn't say exactly that, but it was close.
