Open House

Open House

Is there any fate worse than being stuck with you’re exwife for three hours? I’d managed to last thirteen years. I’d fully planned to spend the next thirteen hiding under the blankets recovering. Alas, it was not to be.

Our son had an open house at a special school program he was trying to get into for computers. Exwife lady informed me that not everyone gets in and if we ever wanted to live off of our children one day then we’d better do everything in our power to get him into this thing. I could not find fault in her reasoning.

The open house was at three, she wanted to leave at two thirty, the school is ten minutes away, that equaled twenty minutes of standing around. I hate waiting for things. Especially because I’ll have to listen to exwife girl talk to people. She can’t help but to talk. She’d die if she couldn’t speak. But she’s crazy and if I have to listen to her ramble without the ability to make fun of her then I’ll go crazy(er). Yet she wanted to make sure we found a place to park so we were getting there early and that was that. Son boy informed her there’d only be thirty people or so. She vehemently disagreed.

“Yeah,” I added, “there could be thousands of people at this thing boy. You have no idea.”
The youngling and I laughed. Exwife chick was not amused.
“Keep laughing, but just remember son it’s you’re future he’s fucking up.”
She’s passionate bordering on fanaticism. So serious she’s dire. It’s cute. Everything is the end of the world. Every instance is an emergency. But I can still make her laugh. That’s one of my favorite things about her. I can make her laugh till it hurts. I think she hates me for that too.

As we pulled up there were 5 cars in the parking lot.
“I think I’m going to park in the empty field across the street so we don’t get blocked in.” More sarcasm. Strike two against exhusband guy.

We headed into the school. We’ve never been there. Our son has never been there. Exwife asks where the bathroom is. Without hesitation the boy points to a hallway on the left and says “They’re by the lockers.” They were nowhere near the lockers. They weren’t even in that direction. But his answer was so convincing even I thought he knew what he was talking about. That’s one of the great things about the kid. He thinks he knows everything…literally. Even when he’s making up shit it sounds like he knows exactly what he’s talking about. Confidence that borders on arrogance. He makes me so proud.

As was typical for this kind of function nobody knew where we were supposed to be so there was a lot of wandering around. It was good enough to kill twenty minutes which gladdened my heart. All the parents and their children eventually filed into a little auditorium. We live in a rural area. Everyone there was blue collar, except exwife woman. She’s got a PHD (almost). I was not impressed by the crowd. Sure, they probably all had like, jobs and stuff, but we were the smartest people there. The boy would have no trouble ruling these slackjawed hayseeds. He was already the smartest in his current school. Yes, he got nearly all F’s on his last report card, but that’s because he’s lazy and cocky, not dumb.

The woman speaking on stage with the pleated schoolgirl skirt above her knees had nice legs for a sixty-year old woman. In fact, I stared at her legs the whole time so I didn’t have to look at her. Her face was worn with a lifetime of wrinkles and worry. Bleaching your hair blond does not hide the grays, it only makes you’re mop look pale and flat. It was rather sad to see her trying so hard. Her shoes were lovely though. The exwife thought she looked great. It made me wonder how much women dress up just to impress other women, for certainly that old lady in her slutty school girl attire was not going to make much of an impression on the men folk.

She talked. Other people talked. I kind of listened. The exwife and son fought over papers. He wouldn’t let her hold them and she had no choice but to let him win because other people were watching and because he was her pride and joy. I let him have his way because I encouraged his arrogance every chance I got.

They told us that if our son got in to the program he’d get certificates in computer stuff, even some college credits. They also did a paid internship. Then they said our kids would be ‘cohorted’. I’m pretty sure that none of the country bumpkins in the room knew what ‘cohort’ meant much less ‘cohorted’ which isn’t a real word. And they didn’t really explain it till about an hour later which I thought was cute.

“Hey, lets impress these hicks by using fancy words they couldn’t possibly know because we just made them up!”

Apparently ‘cohorted’ means that when you’re kids are in this program they take all their classes with other kids in the program. Even you’re PE and you’re English and stuff. They describe it as a school within a school. So basically, you’re nerdy little kid won’t be mixed in with the general population. You’re awkward, socially inept spawn won’t have to associate with the regular halfwits in the school. They’ve isolated the smart kids from the regular kids. I found that highly amusing and stupid. I’m sure it helps the nerds not get beat up, but I feel social scaring is an important formative experience for a child. I wouldn’t be half the evil super villain I am today if it wasn’t for the pains and horror of high school. And now they’re going to deprive my son of this? Not that it matters. The boy isn’t nearly as awkward as I was so he’d have been fine. But these children are going to have to associate with regular people one day. They’re depriving them of important social interactions. And besides, my kid is just going to wail on them in PE. Nerd dodge ball? I’m sure dominating these spindly legged, four-eyed bookworms won’t add to my son’s already over blown ego. Not at all.

After that we toured different classes. The night wasn’t a total loss. I learned some stuff and there was a pretty little red headed mother who exchanged secret glances with me (or I was scaring her with my gawking, one of the two). Some of the kids currently in the program spoke to us. I was struck by two things. First of all my son was already a better public speaker and more outgoing than nearly all of these juniors and seniors. Secondly there were cute girls in this thing. Nerd culture had progressed greatly since my time. He’d do well here.

I secretly congratulated ex-wife girl for dragging us to this thing. She didn’t embarrass us too much, she made sure we got here and she filled everything out. Thank god for women folk and their irrepressible drive to perform menial tasks. She did good. On the way home I offered to buy everyone a burger. She replied;
“I think it’s the least you could do since you divorced me and pretty much ruined my life.”
On second thought, we’ve got left over pizza at home.


About thelastmonte

I'm a ninja for hire An ice cube on fire A soothsayer and liar Deceitful, dashing and dire A menacing muse muddling meanings in the mire My mind tumbles around like a cat in a dryer When it comes down to the wire I get lit like a pyre Kicking hobbits out the shire In jet black attire like a cocaine supplier And I aspire to acquire your ire Oh, and I also do freelance work.
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2 Responses to Open House

  1. Ty says:

    Hey, great articles! They are a great reprieve from exams and eye ball gouging. I am a aspiring half assed writer sort of, if this falls through im luckly almost finished a Fish and Wildlife Technician program. Your style speaks to me as Im sure it does to thousands of others. Good job.

  2. thelastmonte says:

    Thanks bra, glad you liked it.

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