Brief Portrait

To further throw in my face my own current state of unemployment Aliza has gone & gotten another job, as in a second job, as if her job molding the impressionable minds of Junction City’s finest {those of us in the know just shivered a little bit with that thought} as an esl aid at JC High {go tigers!} wasn’t enough with all the respect & satisfaction it brings, she is now the newest Saturday school teacher {enforcer?} for JC’s middle school. After her interview Aliza & I went to have coffee in celebration. Over the best shortbread this town has to offer, other than that which comes straight out of Aliza’s kitchen, it was disclosed that when she applied for the job Aliza wasn’t aware of what, technically, Saturday school is. I’m not sure what she expected, some high-endurance after school program for the disadvantaged perhaps, but to mediate over delinquent ne’er-do-wells, making sure that they have the worst possible Saturday ever & fulfill their required penance of a letter to the vice principle {what got them Saturday school, how best to avoid said situation(s) & thus not receive Saturday school in the future & what they’d like to be when they grow up} is not what she had in mind. Which brought into focus once again the difference in upbringing between Aliza & I. While she's stunned by the simple fact that something like Saturday school even exists, I'm not only admitting to my previous knowledge of Saturday school but I also begin sharing stories of time spent in that most hellish of hells.
After coffee we went home to 47 Monroe & Brian began sharing his own woes in regards to the same, which just incited more reminiscing over the aberrant nature of junior high/high school boys, Brian & I reveling in our ignoble past with stories of sexual deviance & drug abuse, all to Aliza’s grief. Honestly I think we were just prepping her for the worst, introducing her to a world she didn’t even hear rumor of as a young girl.
Today was her first stint there & as a good boyfriend equipped with the knowledge of the evil workings of thirteen year old boys, I pre-approved what she was to wear this morning, ensuring that no angst-driven, acne-ridden, bursting-from-the-seams-with-hormones little shit was thinking raunchy thoughts about her. Of course, I’m unemployed & still think farts are funny, just like I was & did in middle school.
God, good luck Aliza.

On another note:
my musical side project to enjoy your fall..., Diets for Giants, has its own webpage now. Give it a look-see at http://dietsforgiants.enjoyyourfall.com.