The Golf Cart, pt. III
As per tradition, I got kicked out of Mrs. Holland's English class at
least once per week. Likewise, Paul got kicked out of his class about
twice as often as I did (I was the most disruptive honor-roll student in school
history, I'm convinced) and when our evictions occurred simultaneously (which
surprisingly wasn't all too often) we would always have a good time doing
something destructive.
The final hijacking occurred on just such a day. When I got kicked out 10
minutes into class, I walked outside to see Paul already there soaking in the
Florida sun (we were in portables). We compared circumstances leading up to
our eviction, chewed the fat and then got incredibly bored. Lucky for us,
Marvin, in traditional Marvin fashion, left the keys in the golf cart yet
again. Paul and I had about 40 minutes until classes would be let out so we
decided to take this a bit futher than we had last time--after all, there was
plenty of time to waste! We had already launched the thing on a solo-mission
across the soccer field, but now it was time to make a manned flight. Who would
catch us?
Everyone was in class! Paul hopped in the
passenger side, leaned back and popped his feet up on the dashboard as I took
the wheel...I've always been good at taking control of a situation and this was
no exception. We made plans to head off to the convenient store about a block
away.
Everything looked good. No teachers, students or Neanderthals in sight, keys
in the ignition and a bright yellow sun shone all around us--perfect day for a
hijacking.
As far as Paul and I were concerned, the only way it could have gotten any
better would have been if the
Swedish Bikini Team had dropped in with a cooler of Keystone in tow...but I don't
drink beer so actually it couldn't have gotten any better for me. But since
there were no bikinis in sight, we would have to settle on the convenient
store.
We got about 200 feet into our journey when a car pulled up. "Uh oh,"
we both said aloud, "it's Mr. Luick!" We weren't altogether too concerned
about it because Mr. Luick was generally a pretty happy-go-lucky teacher who
was considered one of the coolest teachers in the school. But that day, his
dog must have relieved himself in his cornflakes because he was raging. As he
came to a screeching halt, Paul and I gave him a cheery greeting: "Hey Mr.
Luick! What's up?"
"What do you think you're doing?" His tone was most severe--not at all like
him.
"Oh we just thought we'd take the old golf cart on a little tour of the
campus--you know, make sure it's in good working order!" I replied.
He didn't appreiciate my sarcasm (many folks don't) and began to dig in his
briefcase. Not finding what he was looking for, he sat his briefcase on the
ground. "You two sit right there and don't move--I'm going to go get
a pair of referral forms."
"Okay...that's cool." Said I, turning off the cart and leaning back casually.
"We'll be right here waiting for ya."
It had been about 2 or 3 weeks since I'd
seen Mr. Lopez our principal so this was going to be a perfect opportunity to
visit him and maintain faculty-student relations. Mr. Luick returned 5 minutes
later with two ominous-looking forms in his hands
and using the top of his car as a writing surface, he proceeded to sentence us
to an afternoon with Prncipal Kenneth Lopez. He handed us our
respective forms and we were on our way.
When we had gotten about 50 feet
away, we heard his car door shut, engine start and then a strange crunching
sound. Mr. Luick got out to see what had happened only to find that he had
just backed over his own briefcase! Paul and I busted out laughing and fell on
the ground cripppled with laughter. Mr. Luick held his flattnened briefcase
over his head and shook it violently in our direction all the while letting out
a rather intense primal
screm that would have made any jungle animal run for its life. Score--Car: 1,
Briefcase: 0.
Paul and I both got an in-school suspension for that stunt and my dad beat me
like a red-headed step child but it was worth it just to see Mr. Luick walking
around with a bungee cord wrapped around his tattered briefcase for
the rest of the year! Served him right for getting me suspended.
Want more? Hijack your own golf cart...I learned my lesson!