Sarcasm & Cynicism & All of That

Adam West for JAN 26 - Working

Brian Feidler shook his head as he graded papers. He had been a teacher's aide for only 4 months, and he was already sure that this was the wrong profession for him. He had thought that teaching secondary education— high-school kids, young men and women— would be more fulfilling that trying to get through to tots or tweeners. Young men and women? He snorted out loud in disgust. These were the rudest, most disorganized, and downright disappointing people he had ever met. And there were the next generation of the workforce, of society, of the world!

"Christ," he muttered. "These idiots wouldn't be able to run a pot of boiling water." He marked another red "F" at the top of a paper. Another one. "They just don't care. They just don't god damn care."

"Feidler, you're talking to yourself again."

"John, how do you take it? How do you deal with these cretins all day?"

"Come on, you remember being that age. Everything was a joke! Seventeen is the perfect age: you have all the freedom and almost none of the responsibility. Do you see any of the seniors that are eighteen acting out like that?"

"So you're on their side?"

"You gotta chill out a little, man. Otherwise you'll burn out."

Brian looked down at the paper. C-. Welcome to a preview of the Future Minimum Wage Earners of America convention. He scrawled the grade angrily on the paper. "That's it, I've had it. I have to be done for the day, John."

"Really? Looks to me like there's still a rather hefty stack of papers there."

Brian sighed. "So far, the highest grade has been a C+. I can only take so much mediocrity in one day, John. I was valedictorian in high school, magna cum for both bachelors and masters— I know these kids can do better than this. They're just too damn lazy to put out."

"You really think that?" John's eyebrows were furrowed in concern, and his voice was quiet. "You really think they're a bunch of neanderthals?"

Feidler picked up the stack of papers, held them up demonstratively, then dropped them back on the desk in disgust. "No, Mr. Kerning. I think you have a stack of MENSA candidates here!"