223. The teacher wants a board marker (2/3)

I decide I am fully deserving of a brand new marker pen and stay rooted on the spot. 

‘Could I have a marker pen, please?’

I really want more than one but I will break this gently to them. I have got the feeling that they are all sniggering at me behind the coffee pot. I cannot think why. This makes me a  little irate and there is a high risk I might become unpleasant which in turn will jeopardise my accessing the box of markers.

I stand and wait. Patiently. Then someone says to me:

‘It’s the office next door.’

More sniggering. I wonder why. Have I said something stupid? Is there a big sign saying MARKERS HERE? Have I got coffee down my front? 

‘OK. Thank you. Bye.’

I don’t want to stay in this room more than I have to. I leave and head to the office next door. The door is ajar. Perfect. The person in charge is here. I’m lucky after all. I knock. No reply. I check my watch. Ten to eleven. This is not coffee break time or is it? I am definitely dyscodix. I will check the Internet to see what help is at hand.

I knock again, loudly and as there is no answer I push the door and walk in. No-one. I am beginning to lose control when one of the coffee drinkers walks in.

‘Oh! Thanks for coming. There’s no-one here!’

I must sound desperate by now.

‘Well, yes, it’s my office ...’

‘I couldn’t guess that.’ I say sharply.

She ignores me.

‘What do you want?’

I want to cry, that’s what I want. Or scream and swear that I just want a ***** board marker! But a little voice tells me ‘come on woman, pull yourself together’ so I blurt out.

‘I would like four markers: one black, one blue, one red and one green and two refills for each. Please.’

‘That’s not possible.’ 

I am going to strangle the woman. My tone is sharper now as I tell her that I have bought all my rechargeable markers in the past while she was still dishing out throw away ones and that this year I WANT MY BOARD MARKERS. NOW. I WANT THEM NOW. NOOOOOWWWW.

‘We do not have green and red. Only black and blue. But I need to check in the store room.’

She shuffles all the way to the store room and I can hear her rummaging around in there and then she comes back with a handful of stuff. A handful. Now I feel sorry for her and I want to tell her that she could bring the boxes here, that droves of teachers are going to come in here.

She sits down at her desk and opens a notebook.

‘What’s your name?’

I cannot believe this. This is a dream and I am going to wake up somewhere hot and sunny and I will find out that I am lounging by the side of an infinity pool, infinitely blue ...

This is not a dream. This is my day job. She writes my name in the book. And next to it she writes: 

- one blue rechargeable marker

- one black rechargeable marker

- two blue refill cartridges

- two black refill cartridges

- one red ...

‘If you really want a red and a green one I will have to give you the old ones. We’re not ordering new ones until we get rid of the stock we have.’

I nod. She writes.

- one red marker

- one green marker

Then she sorts through the pile she has dumped on her desk and dishes out the required items. One by one.

Later on with my first group of the year I make sure I have something to write on the board. I write and realise with a sinking heart that the markers I’ve begged for have a fine point and the kids can’t see what I write on the board. I want to throw them out of the window but the window is locked because of an other risk assessment in the back of some office somewhere.