Mr. Spatz made a deliberate show of looking at his watch while shaking his head. He removed a pen from his shirt pocket and began tapping it on the edge of the clipboard he held. "Well, Mister Jenkins, it looks as if you are late again."
Our eyes met for a moment, and I then looked down toward my ten-dollar pleather shoes, as if to say, yes, I am tardy again, and I apologize for my stupidity and pray for compassion and understanding on your part, oh exalted manager of Peachy Burroughs Terrace, Fine Dining at the P.B. Country Club.
"I cut myself shaving and it wouldn't stop bleeding. I practically bled to death. See?" I said, pointing to my shirt.
Mr. Spatz looked at my shirt suspiciously, raising his eyebrows as if it was
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I brewed coffee and iced tea. I brewed some decaf. I ate a package of oyster crackers and sucked on an ice cube. I went into the kitchen and got two soup pots from the cooks, the clam chowder we had every night and salmon bisque, the soup du jour. One of the cooks asked me what happened, pointing to the bandage on my chin. I looked at the cook whose name I didn't know, studying his bushy mustache and the toothpick hanging from the corner of his mouth. I wanted to tell him that I had cut myself because I was distracted by my decision to grow a mustache, but knew any man with such a healthy mustache would never understand.
< 4 > I shrugged my shoulders. "Muy borracho," I said, and everybody in the kitchen burst out laughing, even the dishwasher with the lazy eye and the broken teeth. I couldn't tell whether they thought I was funny or stupid. I wasn't even sure what I thought myself.
I took the soup pots into the dining room. I filled the bread warmer with a few bags of sourdough rolls, and then took one out and gnawed on a corner of it like a caged rodent. Mr. Spatz suddenly swept into the room, inspecting the table setup and the general appearance of everything. He didn't have his EDF clipboard with him, but I knew it was probably close at hand. I quickly tossed the roll I was eating into the garbage. Eating rolls was grounds for an
“I’m not sure, I don’t think there’s anything I do Sir… I’m afraid I’ll hurt myself.” I said quietly
“There, we can see your beautiful face again,” she says, depositing the washcloth into the murky water, and extracts the bandages and tape from the medical kit. “It's not bleeding, but knowing you, you'll figure a way to open it up again.” She grins.
"They made me go into the arena. Everyday for the past sixteen days. This blood was the captain's..." I stared forth in disbelief.
“We had a conversation just,” the stranger looked at his watch, “36 minutes ago, remember?”
Mrs.Linde: It is almost the time, if he does not show up.(she is been interupt by the knock of the door) Ah ha! Here he comes. ( she walk as lightly as a cat to open the outer door carefully).
"No, look at these marks on my neck!" He exclaimed as he pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing burn marks from a rope.
”Well, it was a week before school started; all of the teachers were talking in the lobby. A few of us have not eaten yet, me included. Therefore, Mr. Carter and I walked over to the fridge and he grabbed the last burrito. I walked back to the table with him, expecting to be offered at least half of the burrito but he did not even bother. I was stuck there eating chips and rice while he was enjoying stuffing his face. You can imagine how mad I was.
His mouth curves into parenthesis. “You’re in the hospital,” he begins. “Don’t worry, it’s normal to be disoriented after The Cut.”
“It’s alright, at least you’re okay. Now, what was it that you wanted to show me?” I asked as my sister reached into her pocket.
It was a regular day for my family, everybody was done with school and were now doing homework, but there was something different about today. Our parents had went to Costco and had brought back a huge box of It’s-It. Now, my family and I always fought for those delicious ice cream sandwiches, they were like gold to a gold miner in San Francisco back in 1849. I always knew a way to sneak more than one It’s-It, even though I am usually very strict with what I eat. First, it was one then two soon it became three It’s-It. I was shock of how much I had ate, but I made sure not to leave anything behind for my family will get curious. It was around 7:30, when my parents had called for all us to get together for a “discussion,” but I already knew
As we were poured into glasses that were not all the way clean, I saw one of my good friends Crummy. He came out with the rest of the batch. I noticed he was not baked all the way. I kept yelling --“Stop!”
He stopped mid step to look at me, Jeanette introduced us. He then asked me, “what is that on your arm?” I was confused by what he was talking about. Then he said “You only have one eyebrow”, as he walked away laughing. I was so embarrassed while my friend stood there and looked at me. She tried to apologize, but that didn’t stop the tears from running down my cheeks. Abruptly, I left running home as fast as I could and went straight to my room slamming the door behind me. My mom immediately came to console me. I could not control my emotions as I explained to her what happened. I asked her “why do I have to be so hairy?” “It’s not fair, Jeanette does not have a uni-brow!” My sorrow quickly turned into anger. My mom explained to me that I was Mexican and that I shouldn’t be ashamed of how I looked, instead I should be proud of my heritage. I was so ashamed of my looks. I didn’t want my uni-brow or hairy arms. That night my mom plucked my eyebrows so I didn’t have a uni-brow, but did not do anything about my hairy arms. The next morning as I was taking a shower I looked at my mother’s razor, I picked it up. I started debating if I should shave my arms, but was so nervous since I had never used a razor before. I took one stroke and froze in shock that I did it. I figured there is no turning back now. I shaved my entire arm, from my shoulder down to my knuckles. I chose to shave my arms because I wanted people to see me as normal.
He stopped mid step to look at me, Jeanette introduced us. He then asked me, “What is that on your arm?” I was confused by what he was talking about. Then he said “You only have one eyebrow”, as he walked away laughing. I was so embarrassed while my friend stood there and looked at me. She tried to apologize, but that didn’t stop the tears from running down my cheeks. I left running home as fast as I could and went straight to my room slamming the door behind me. My mom immediately came to console me. I could not control my emotions as I explained to her what happened. I asked her “why do I have to be so hairy?” “It’s not fair, Jeanette does not have a uni-brow!” My sorrow quickly turned into anger. My mom explained to me that I was Mexican and that I shouldn’t be ashamed of how I looked, instead I should be proud of my heritage. I was so ashamed of my looks. I didn’t want my uni-brow or hairy arms. That night my mom plucked my eyebrows so I didn’t have a uni-brow, but did not do anything about my hairy arms. The next morning as I was taking a shower I looked at my mother’s razor, I picked it up. I started debating if I should shave my arms, but was so nervous since I had never used a razor before. I took one stroke and froze in shock that I did it. I figured there is no turning back now. I shaved my entire arm, from my shoulder down to my knuckles. I chose to shave my arms because I wanted people to see me as normal. However, I later learned that having
I stare begrudgingly at my cereal, lost in the extra few hours of sleep I got, and the feeling that I had wasted my life away. It wasn’t too uncommon; reading books under a night light until the early hours of the morning, falling asleep with my face firmly planted between two pages, and waking up in time for lunch sporting red lines from nighttime papercuts. It worked out it the end, though, the cuts were small and disappeared completely after a day or two, but until then I looked like some tough delinquent who got into fights on a daily basis, or a nerd who had tried to kiss her favorite book and failed miserably. Either one of those I could deal with.
At noon. I was comfortably watching TV, the clock ringing and it was twelve o’clock .I wanted to keep watching TV and went downstairs to buy dinner. However i can’t buy food downstairs, but have find another way. “why don’t I do something ? I haven’t done it ,just try it.” I said to myself excitedly. I ran to the kitchen to prepare for the cooking .and a tomato. “Is it enough for me ? Why not buy some food ?”I complained. I cut the tomatoes into 4 pieces and try them in a pan with the eggs. “i’ve always wanted to be a chef. Why don’t you try it today” I said .So i lifted the pan so hard that i didn’t open my eyes and only listened to the thump thump thump .i opened my eyes and saw that half the dishes were missing I’m not going to do it again . After a while , the dish was Fried and i began to boil the pan, absolutely enough . I started the fire ,put the water on