Friday

            “You know what the bad thing about Friday is?”

            I turned and looked at Leroy, our Science teacher.  We had hall duty and were standing by the student lockers in the middle of the end of the school day chaos.  The final bell had just rung.  Kids were milling around everywhere, pulling lockers open, stuffing backpacks, and jostling each other.   

            Teachers have to stand in the halls a lot.  The theory is that if we stand among them, the kids won’t misbehave as much.

            It cuts into a lot of my time.

            It’s irritating.

            But it works.  So I stand in the hall a lot.

            “Leroy is strange,” I thought.  “There is no bad thing about Fridays.”  But he had me curious.

            “OK,” I said taking the bait.  “What’s bad about Fridays?”

            Leroy’s face was thoughtful as he continued to scan the chaos.  “We have to go two days without the kids.”

            I narrowed my eyes and stared at him, waiting for a smile, but he was dead serious.

            “Yeah,” I deadpanned, “Two whole days.”

            Leroy studied the hall while I squinted at him, waiting for the smile that never came.  Suddenly he stepped out and announced, “Listen up!  Mrs. Jones says you need to get moving.  Let’s go.  You’ll miss your buses.”

            “Hey!” I called, “I never . . . ”

            “And Mrs. Jones is an excellent teacher,” Leroy added, “So let’s obey her.”