222. The teacher wants a board marker (1/3)

 I am ready.

All I need is to get kitted out. I tried yesterday afternoon but I was told that the person in charge was not available and so I would have to come back tomorrow morning. Maybe.

What puzzled me is that I was told this by someone who was in the person in charge’s office, who had the key not only for the door of to the aforementioned office but also the keys to all the cupboards and to the storeroom.

All I wanted was a board marker.

So this morning as the afternoon timetable had still to be confirmed I decided I’d take a stroll to school under the brilliant morning sunshine. I had my badge and so opening the small gate was easy, I crossed the playground full of bored-looking (already?) teens and headed up the stairs to Gringotts.

As I reach the top of the stairs I realise nothing has changed. I am again entering an other dimension, an other world which after two years i still dont know the codes of. I must be dyscodix. I need to work on that.

There is a desk on wheels on the landing. A tall one, not unlike the ones you have in restaurant and where they keep their booking diaries and maybe the menus. Here it has a lot of nasty looking warning and notices that basically say: WAIT. But I know from experience that if you wait here nothing happens. So now I get cheeky. I walk past the forbidden desk on wheels and find myself in the middle of the landing and the challenging part is: where do I knock?

All the doors are more or less ajar but one is a little more open and I take that for a sign of welcome. I walk straight to it and knock. To compensate for the sharp knock I give them the cheeriest ‘hello’ I can master and I walk in the large office. At the back, near the window there is a large table and four or five women are sitting around a huge coffee pot. Honestly. Huge. Maybe the size of the coffee pot is the direct result of the Local Education Authority are still drafting the risk assessment on the use of the coffee machine. I decide not to raise the matter. Although what I want to say is ‘hey, that’s not fair! Us teachers we want a huge pot like this one too!’

All the faces turn and look at me as if I have just landed from Planet Mars. So I feel the need to speak.

‘Hello! I’m a teacher here. I’m Mrs F. I’m looking for a board marker.’

They all stare at me. I definitely do not have the codes, nor the language. Should I stay and fight for my board marker? Or should I just jump in the car and head to the office store out of town? I need to make a decision on the spot and not be rude with it.