I thought I was pretty cool my senior year in high school. I went to a private school so everyone had to wear uniforms which consisted of dress shoes, khaki pants, a belt, and a polo shirt. “Dress down days” were the BEST THING EVER! These were days where we could wear whatever we wanted. The whole school went to Mass every Wednesday and most people loved Jesus. Well I was a rebel. Sometimes I didn’t wear a belt. I know right?! Sometimes I wore this disgusting blue polo from the seventies which was way too tight with front buttons going way down past anywhere socially acceptable. AND SOMETIMES I wore converse to school. I got detention. I was legit BA. That stands for legitimate bad ass.
One of the best and worst qualities about my school was we excelled in most of our extra-curricular activities including sports. Seeing as we were all spoiled rich kids we had a very little understanding of what it meant to lose at something or to be stupid or poor. (Brad, you’re just ranting.) Um, no, other voice in my head. You just wait. This all has meaning and purpose.
My senior year consisted of half the school being torn down for a newer better school with innovative things like air conditioning. So half the time the Intercom system didn’t work and sometimes the fire alarms would go off at random. It was great fun. The day of the lockdown started like any other day; I was gossiping about somebody, I didn’t do my homework, and we had just beat one of the public schools in some sport that I was completely unaware of. And now, I will switch to present tense to add dramatic effect.
I’m in my speech class and the bell rings so we all go out in the hallway and no one else there. So immediately we all act like babies whose bottle was taken away: A look of confusion and yelling. “Where is everybody!” Then the poor Algebra teacher runs in the hall and screams at us to get back in our class because the school was on Lockdown. This was the best news ever. Lockdowns are amazing. Once a year we would have a lockdown drill and it was the best excuse giggle in the corner and text. So we all cheer and run back to class and do just that.
Then, Chloe checks her phone and sees that she already has a text from her mom asking if she’s okay. That’s weird. Then our speech teacher checks the internet (The World Wide Web) and sees that our school is on the news. Little did we know that we had been on Lockdown for over half an hour. We didn’t hear the intercom announcement in our class because of the construction so we all start to worry just a bit.
Meanwhile. My friend Rachael is choir class and they are practicing in the auditorium. They hear the announcement and everyone goes down to the costume room. The costume room is a closet with a couple mirrors and a cage filled with dresses that a house elf could comfortably live in. The theatre class was crammed in there that day practicing stage make-up. With the theatre and choir classes combined there was over eighty squashed in a closet cowering for their lives. Someone was probably touched inappropriately. The teachers were equally as scared as they couldn’t lock the door. They acted something like this:
They then turn off the lights to which the glow in the dark paint fulfilled its purpose and displayed penises covering the walls. Keep in mind that everyone in that room knew that there was an actual intruder in the school and they might die in that little hamster pen.
I’m still in the speech classroom and we waited for another forty five minutes for the all clear. The teacher was contemplating the best way to break through the window and people were saying things like, “I wonder if it’s the public school kids.” Then, we hear from the next classroom over that the assistant principle announces that the lockdown is over and that we can go to our next class. One girl in my class says, “What if the intruder is holding a gun to her head and forcing her to say that?”
Every class empties into the hallway. We all start laughing and talking. Then we see them. There are at least six men in the hallway holding giant-ass guns and they all start screaming at us. The next ten seconds were an out of body experience and it was as though I was laying on my couch watching a movie of what happened. Everyone started screaming, papers and books were flying though the air; I’m surprised somebody didn’t get trampled. The doors in the school were made of super heavy wood and as soon as the teachers heard screaming, they closed the doors were shut as fast as possible echoing the sounds of gunshots. So every time a door closed everyone would scream, duck their body, and cover their hands over their head. Students were crying and pounding on the doors pleading for the teachers to let them back in. In other classes desks were being flipped over to use as shields. One kid (this is so high school) took a picture of a teacher’s butt with his cell phone when she was crouched on the ground. He then sent the picture to his friends as if to say, “Hey look. It’s our teacher’s butt.” We stampede back to class and hide in the corner, half the class in tears. The whole scenario looked something like this:
We were then called out of our classes for a second time to find out that the SWAT team was dressed in civilian clothing. There was some miscommunication (duh) and the assistant principle had announced the all clear when they had known none the wiser. The “intruders” happened to be students in the drama class who had decided to do camouflage make-up for their assignment. They also thought it would be a good idea to wear their army gear and walk around the school. The principal’s office saw them on the camera’s, didn’t recognize them, and called for the lockdown. The “intruders” heard the announcement and hid in the locker rooms with the gym class from themselves.
What can we learn from this story? Regardless of how cool you think you are, polos from the seventies belong in the seventies.
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