First I have to find her, of course. I don’t really remember her name. It was Miss Up-something. Upshaw? Upgrove? I know she turned up at another school I went to later, and she was married and had a different last name. I don’t even remember what she looked like — this was 1972, and to little me, all adults looked tall and plaid.
But when I find her, I’m going to sue her.
See, I have not fulfilled my career potential. After 14 years of a Canadian public education and the ensuing post-secondary schooling I chose to pursue, I should be a career success at the top of his game. Instead, I am in the basement, surrounded by comic books and hamster food.
It’s all Miss Updale’s fault.
Well, maybe it isn’t. But I’m just following the lead set by Trina Thompson, of New York City, who is suing Monroe College in the Bronx because, three months after she graduated, she doesn’t have a job. The New York Post, which likes this kind of story as much as I do, will tell you about it here.
Trina is my new hero. All this time, I thought it was up to me to find work. I didn’t realize my schools were supposed to do that. So I contacted my college, and someone there said the current assistant director of employment resources is on vacation. I called my high schools (I went to a bunch) and there was no answer, because it’s August. So that got me thinking: Let’s take this back to the source.
I remember once I got caught drawing on the carpet with a black crayon. Miss Upford took me to the Bad Boy Corner and told me to think about what I had done. We had this conversation:
- Her: “What do you want to be when you grow up?”
- Me: “A detective, like the Hardy Boys.”
- Her: “Well, that will never happen, because you are a Bad Boy!”
And look at me now.
I estimate that my career as a detective, had I started, say, at age 21, would have netted me a fair sum over the ensuing decades. Let’s call it 50 million dollars (because of all the lost treasure I would have located).
Mrs. Upyours, when I find you, you’re on the hook.
See, Trina? This is how it’s done. We went to school. We showed up every day, sort of! We paid our tuition, almost all the time! They owe us! Ignore this guy, and fight on!
When I’m done with Miss Upload, I’ll probably sue the makers of moon boots for my inability to get any action in high school.