Good Morning, Tessie
Well, it's been a few weeks now since Brad's appointment with the OCS, and I've not heard a word from him. I don't know if he is still pissed about the affair, or sulking, or if it's just plain over between us. I do know it would be pointless for me to call him, and if I did I would probably end up apologizing and then being angry at myself for it afterwards. After all, what do I have to apologize for? I didn't break some poor guy's nose in a drunken brawl, and I even tried to help him get through his correction proceedure. And the Office never did receive the obligatory letter of appreciation from him afterwards. Ms. H is usually pretty thorough when it comes to the formalities of her services, but she's never inquired about it. I suspect she let it slide for my sake, knowing Brad and I are (were?) involved. He doesn't know how lucky he is - if she chose to pursue the matter, he could find himself right back over her correction bench.
Well, let him sulk. I am not going to go after him.
If you ask me ( and I think you are), you're better off. In fact, I like the sound of the new, stand-up-for-herself Lindsay. Considering how you've let guys walk all over you in the past, this is a big step. My little sister is growing up.
It's easy to not let people walk over you when you are the one in charge! You should see these guys (and girls) when they come in to the OCS for their appointments. They look like junior high sophomores at their first school dance. They're gawky and awkward, and nervous as cats. It's like they left whatever composure they've had out in the hallway. What a fearsome reputation Ms H has forged on campus - and some of it has rubbed off on me. If I snap my fingers, they all jump. Literally - they're terrified I might have noted some minor infraction of Ms. H's rules in the way they are sitting or fidgeting and I might note it on their file.
I have to confess, sis, I've snapped my fingers just to watch the reactions. I've even started instituting my own set of rules for the waiting room. No slouching, no fidgeting, no talking... I warn them once, and then if they don't comply, I add a black mark onto their file. That usually gets them back in line pretty fast. Mind you, it might also be the paddle claps, cane swishes yips and yowls that penetrate the walls that cows them a little, too (lol). You should see how their eyes bug out when a miscreant emerges from the inner sanctums, stiff-lipped and limping, barely holding it together while I check them out and send them on their way with a reminder that we expect a letter of appreciation within two days, and it darn well better read sincere! Every person in that waiting room is gaping at the poor bugger in horror, because they know that will be them all too soon. I used to feel sorry for them, but I've heard how Ms H's techniques have improved grades, and I remind myself that, however traumatic today might be for them, tomorrow will be a brighter day. (well, maybe not tomorrow, but in a week or so, lol).
I have a whole system broken down. After I summon one 'correctee' into Ms H's office, I instruct the next in line to approach my desk and have them write out some or all of the OCS rules for behavior (it's entirely at my discretion how much), that they were expected to memorize prior to arriving. Then I check to see that they've done their homework, and note down every mistake. Knowing that every stroke of my little black felt pen is likely to translate to a stroke with a much crueler instrument
is nothing short of deliciously empowering. I often wait for a particularly appalling yelp from beyond Ms H's door before I drag my marker over the page with a damning squeak. You should see how the blood drains from their faces, even more at my little squeak than at the clamorous racket of their immediate and inevitable near future.
Gawd, I love my job.
Geez, Linds! Now I'm getting worried about you again. I think you are enjoying this job way too much. Before too long, you're going to be hanging around S&M clubs with safety pins hanging from your nipples.
Not my speed. You don't understand. We're helping these students get back on track, reminding them to take their time at Abernathy seriously and get the most out of it. I'm actually doing them a favor - the more intimidated and subservient they are when I hand them over to Ms Hutchins, the easier it will go for them. She'll still punish them, but the severity will not be as, well, severe, as if they had not been psychologically prepared beforehand.
I dunno - sounds like a lame excuse to just be mean to people. From what I gather, you've turned your reception into your own personal little torture chamber for your amusement. You yourself admitted you enjoy watching your 'correctees' squirm.
Yeah, I did say that, I guess. The truth is, I don't know what's driving me. The little world inside this office is so bizarre and wild and strangely enthralling, it's just hard to explain it to someone on the outside looking in. It's easy to get wrapped up in. It has it's own fascinations and it makes the blood rush and the heart pound, whatever end of the cane you're on. I don't think I'm a cruel person, but I do have a wicked streak in me that, now awoken, won't be put back to bed. Should I just ignore it, pretend it's not there? Or should I have the courage to confront it, to explore a side of me that most people would shun away from in horror? Socrates issued the challenge - Know Thyself. Well, I want to know all of what I am, not just those aspects that are easy to acknowledge. It's a bit of a scary journey, I'll admit, and that's why I need my big sister alongside me, for support.
Please don't let me go down this road alone.
Still your little sister,
I would never abandon you, Linds. I just worry, sometimes. Wherever this road takes you, we'll take it together.