Teaching Starts in the Washroom

I'm trying to borrow a Shakespearean outfit. 

I've learned that jeans really do nothing to make my buttocks look supple. 

But maybe pantaloons...

My public life has shifted marginally. 

I can't wear shirts that say 'fuck' anymore. 

And that used to be my whole wardrobe. 

I still don't know how I'm going to get through this summer. 

There are so many strangers that I want to offend. 

But what do I do if those strangers come to parent-teacher night?

One of my students was in the bathroom last night. 

At the mall. 

One of my female students. 

"Hi Mr. Warford!" She's giggling. 

What else can I say? 

"Hi...you're in the wrong bathroom," I tell her. 

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to urinate after an encounter like that?

Relatively. 

I'm washing up (I wouldn't have bothered, but she was there), and she says:

"This must be very awkward for you." 

I say, "It's not that bad." 

And it wasn't. 

Because they're surprising me less and less these days.

While getting paper towels, I add, "Bye. Maybe I'll see you in a change room later."