A Visit

Today was the day of the visit from DoS. He has a notoriously crap car, but it gets him around. However, MC had insisted that he hire a car to come down here - a 90 minute journey. He'd found it all stressful. Her motives in spending cash on car hire unnecessarily are mysterious. It's not as if her largesse extended to the fucking teachers. Not like she said, "Here's £50, give it to them for drink."

Over lunch in the Social Club, he told us that MC was for coming down to present end-of-course Certificates to the students, as "owner of the company". Put me right off my sweet-and-sour pork, the whole notion. The students will be taking loads of photos, and their families will ask them, (in Chinese), "Who's the skank in the suit?", and they'll have to say, "I have no idea - she just turned up and talked in a loud voice. The teachers seemed to be ashamed of her."

DoS did point out that I have managerial control of my timetable, in what I think was an example of that clever way of saying-something-without-saying-it which people get taught at posh schools. I've said it before, he's a nice bloke. Once agreed with me that Late Junction is the heighth of civilisation. I doubt MC listens to it often. The fucker.

It's still surprising though, the extent of the negative feelings that any contact with BTM engenders amongst us three teachers.

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