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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!

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