Let's put it this way. Back in the day of punch card computers I was given a 'student number'. It showed up on my 8th grade report card and I promptly stenciled it on the back of the jackets I wore to school.
When I entered 9th grade my mother headed me off at the pass and hauled my somewhat amused father into the fray. Dad wanted peace and with lips pinched to keep from cracking up he told me I could NOT wear (no $hit) prison shirts with my student number stenciled above the shirt pocket. He also had to lay the law down and stop telling teachers "I am NOT Poccolo anymore. The school changed that. I am now 03754. You WILL address me by my proper number."
Getting it tattooed on my wrist ala Auschwitz survivors was definitely out of the question. However a Sharpie did the trick.
Then again the school always called my mother because my father more often than not used to tell them "Settle it with him."
Yeah. I have not changed much.
No comments:
Post a Comment