Random reminder

Press, 7 June 1983, Page 34

Random reminder

GO FOURTH

Oh, Mummie. We have had the most tedious morning at school. Just because we are in the fourth form everyone picks on us. The prefects were lurking behind the bike sheds and going mental about berets, and then in assembly Call-me-ms was moaning about everything, and in the first period Miss Wobbly was throwing a wobbly about something (sigh), then we had Phys. Ed. and we were absolutely pestered with third formers. They know Nothing, not even where to find the sports sheds. At playlunch — I mean, Morning Interval — we had to stay in these ghastly changing rooms and get told off by Mr Muscle because apparently some silly third formers — is that chocolate icing for me? Yum. Apparently some silly third formers had gone to the shopping centre (Hee hee) and tried to catch a bus to the sports sheds (ho ho) which they thought were at the Ha-ha Avenue grounds. We all giggled and Mr Muscle rushed off to the Deputy Head to get his knickers untwisted, and we were late for the next period, well, we had to have some playlunch, it wasn’t our fault. And then Mr Mugabe came across himself, at any rate it was better than doing Tech. Drawing without a compass. Messalina, the cat, had taken mine and just because I asked politely for them

back Mr Chance threatened me with a detention. Anyhow Mr Mugabe came in and we all had to sit up and the girls had to straighten their skirts and take off our bangles and swallow our chewing gum and take off our earrings and roll our sleeves either right up or right down and rub off our tattoos and un-plait our belts and take out our Afro combs and turn our socks stripy-side-inside. Anyway it wasn’t us Mr Mugabe was after, after all, so he went away and we went on drawing machine screws and Messalina made a remark which I could not bring myself to repeat, Mother dear, and one of the boys could not stop giggling and he got a detention and then Mr Mugabe came back. We all had to sit up and the girls had to straighten their skirts and take off our bangles and swallow our chewing gum and take off our earrings and roll our sleeves either right up or right down and rub off our tattoos and un-plait our belts and take out our Afro combs and turn our socks stripy-side-inside. And it turned out that it was us who Mr Mugabe was after, after all, and we all got a detention. I think it is frightfully unfair. What’s for lunch? Do I HAVE to go back to school this afternoon, cough, cough raise wrist delicately to forehead?