Of Slugs VI

blog post
Hits or what I’ve called them continues.
Like I said before, girls can pack a wallop too.


I was working at a middle-school as a substitute for one of the two vice-principals and charged with routine student discipline and supervision duties. It had been a slow with zero territorial disputes in the lunchroom or other places. It’s indeed a rare day to have no disruption referrals in a school of nearly 600 students. I had made my last roam the halls observations and was typing my report to the regular VP before going outside for bus duty.

There was shouting from the school counselor area and I rushed there. The regular VP was already there and asked me to take the shouting girl to my workspace so he could find out what was happening without the seventh-grade girl interrupting.

The shouting was about her not willing to give up her cellphone, which was strictly forbidden for students to have in those days. She had claimed to the counselor that she’d tossed it to a friend when escorted by security from her classroom. Men, of course didn’t do girl searches, and she’d vehemently refused to allow the woman counselor to do that.

There’s more to the story than I care to or should tell here, but she broke loose several times and flailed her arms when the VP and I were attempting to escort her to the bus. For those who wonder why two men could not restrain a non-compliant seventh-grade girl, try it some time.

In the aftermath, the school secretary said something like, “boy, she sure laid one on you.”

I felt a blow, but thought it was just from her random flailing. The swelling was evident when I looked in a mirror and touched the spot. The closed-circuit hallway video showed her taking an aimed punch at my face.

There was legal action initiated, and there is a ‘rest of the story’ but not for the public.


Slug stories related to classroom incidents have come to an end, or so I think at this time.


From Iniquities of the Fathers: A story of Illusions and Deceptions:

There were no letters that Levi knew of while they were at Vanport; his mother refused him permission to write to Lillie or Adam. Nearly every time his mother went to the store, she brought back newspapers for him. After he finished reading them and marking in his atlas, Levi stuffed them into cracks in the shed walls to help keep out the cold winds.

Smiles, snarks, and comments go here.

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