A Story: Who Knew? *Not Finished*

“They say you’ve got a lot of influence around here.” The young man confronting me was someone of a higher position than a messenger and obviously not happy about being forced to do such menial work. He looked slightly familiar, but I couldn’t place him. His hair was dark brown and slicked back with so much gel that it was obvious he was trying to look important. He was trying too hard, however. He wore a crisp blue suit with no tie and the top button of his white shirt undone. The TV hero look just didn’t work for him.

I didn’t work for him either. “Why are you coming to a sixteen year old for matters that are obviously not school-related? You know very well that my only influence is among teachers and the kids I tutor. With the kids, they are more of owed favors than true affiliations. I’m a smart outcast, not a sly gang leader.”

“It’s more of a personal favor than something school-related. My boss is pretty sure that you know a really good friend of his that lives around here. He can’t find her and he thought you could help him.” He smoothed his hair back as if he was the smartest and sexiest guy in the world.

‘God, you’d think he’s been hanging around Kevin,’ I thought to myself, but as the messenger in front of me pulled out a mirror and combed his hair even though every strand was in place, I changed my original assumption. ‘Even Kevin isn’t THAT arrogant.’

However, I decided not to mess with his pride and instead poked and prodded my own. “I’m not some tour guide, my friend. That’s my mom’s job when she wishes to do it. Tell your boss that if he really wants my help, he needs to come here himself. At the very least, I need a name so I can put him on a waiting list.”

“A waiting list?! How dare you!”

I had pushed just the button I wanted to. “Then get him in here! I don’t like dealing with middle men. When will you be back?” I’d had some bad experiences with middle men and them asking me if I like the people they’re supposedly asking for. I discouraged them, though, and most of them stayed off my back after that.

“Tomorrow, 7:00 pm.”

“Ooh, that’s dinner time. Can you squeeze me in a bit earlier?” I smiled as he stomped out. I loved annoying people that think they’re higher on the food chain than me. Most of them fell for it and I got the satisfaction of getting rid of the extremely arrogant and not-so-determined clients.

A Poem: "Teachers"

There’s something that I don’t get
and probably never will.
Maybe you can help me solve this problem.

When kids say “teachers” and “friends”
they say them as two different things
but I don’t see why.

I’ve met plenty of teachers
who don’t fit into “friends”
and many more that do.

Is it a teacher’s personality
or the way that they teach
that decides why we like them or don’t

Or is it the observer themself
that decides whether they like
that particular teacher

If so, then why do people criticize you?
People say they’ll respect what you think
but when it comes to teachers, they never do.

Many times, I’ve been told that I’m crazy
for liking a teacher that’s an outcast
or not liking one that everyone else does.

Me, I try so hard to fit in
and yet I don’t
when I try to defend a teacher

People are biased because of a name or a look
or the pitch of one’s voice
and automatically don’t like them

This is the problem.
I don’t know why.
Can you help me?