BitterSweetLife

The most rewarding aspect of my job has to be the potential for unusual encounters. Just this morning, as I stood outside the auxiliary building at North KC High School, waiting for someone to unlock the door, I was lucky enough to experience a rare pseudo-bouncer encounter. These are among the more sought-after episodes in the substitute teacher's life, offering, as they do, an exceptional mixture of surprise and wry humor.

So I stood there by the double doors, surveying the overcast sky as I waited for someone to notice my outcast state and let me in. Fortunately, my practiced nonchalance was not needed for long; I glanced through the Plexiglas window and saw a couple teachers approaching down the hallway. Viola. Deliverance was at hand. Or was it?

When I looked through the window again to make sure they were really coming my way (and to ascertain whether the scream-and-kick-the-door plan should be initiated), they avoided my gaze. Fortunately, though, they were walking toward me. And they couldn't hope to get outside without my getting in.

The doors swung open, and one of the two teachers offered a dismissive, "Oh, Excuse us," but I was not deterred. I smiled, gave the customary "That's ok" and stepped toward the door. They stood in the door. And that's when the reality of the pseudo-bouncer encounter washed over me. It was actually happening! I noted the details of the moment:

One of the teachers, a balding man with an imperious face, stood roundly in the doorway as if to repel me with his girth. His protruding stomach doubled as a roadblock—or that, I think, was the idea. His accomplice, a pleasant-looking middle-aged woman, flanked him on the right, doggedly holding her ground. They were not about to let this insolent youngster into the building before the morning's start time. Several moments elapsed as I absorbed the sweet irony of the situation. But it could not go on indefinitely. The pseudo-bouncer encounter owes some of its charm to the brevity of its life. "You...you're not supposed to-" began the woman bewilderedly.

"Actually, I'm a sub," I said, like superman unveiling his threads. Instantaneously, the situation was defused. The two of them smiled in slight embarrassment and relief. The stomach drew back, and the lady teacher gave me an apologetic smile. "I thought you looked a little old to be going here..."

Of course, of course, not to worry, accidents happen. Having just enjoyed a rare moment of intrigue, I could afford to be gracious. In my profession, interludes like this must be savored. A pseudo-bouncer encounter—chalk it up.