I strolled down Harold Street, the long, tree-lined lane that split the town in two and turned onto the side street where the museum was stood. I had my iPod on shuffle, skipping the ones I didn't fancy every time they started up. The building looked so familiar to me, too familiar. As if I'd been going there everyday for years. A quick rush of dread dawned over me as I thought of the last time I was here. So much anticipation and excitement, only to be quashed by a teenager in flip-flops. Why wear flip-flops anyway? It's not even the summer yet. And have you noticed, the only people who insist on wearing flip-flops can't be bothered to walk properly. They scuttle around, making the rubber tap the ground with every step. Pick your feet up, you idiot!
Anyway, the flip-flops were only part of my dis-liking for Jason. He was taking the piss out of Bernard, his employer. By not working when he should be. He writes a blog about his musical tastes, which is all Maroon Five and all those groups from the hit parade. He drinks milkshakes even though he's an adult and, possibly even worse, took the piss out of my Facebook page. That was the final nail in the coffin.
I stepped into the museum, nodded warmly to the woman at reception in the pink cardigan and walked straight into the computer room. It was empty, which I was happy about and began making room for the overhead projector, set up a main computer for Jason to teach his lesson and rolled down the projection screen. My phone buzzed.
'Allison, hi!'
'Afternoon. I rang earlier...'
'Oh, yeah. Had my iPod on.'
'Shuffle?'
'Yeah.'
'Cool. My mum and the class are on their way.'
Brilliant. What was even more brilliant was the fact that Allison miss-timed her call thanks to my iPod, because as soon as I pushed the button to end the call, the full school class wandered into the room, followed by a beaming woman. Allison's mum. Or Mrs Krueger, as the children called her.
'Dylan, nice to meet you. Thank you for arranging this.'
Janet was a smiley woman, with kind eyes that made you comfortable in her presence. She was dressed smartly in pastel colours, ushering the children to take their seats with pleasant chirps. It's an odd way to meet your girlfriends mother, but I fully recommend it. I made the kids some juice as they logged on to the computers, a row of small students in bright red jumpers. Unlike most children I see, they were all silent and polite, like how you imagine children in the olden days used to be. Only you swap the abacus's with top of the range monitors that were five hundred quid a time.
Jason soon arrived, clutching a phone, keys and a bottle of water. His face dropped, just like I imagined it would.
'What's...going on? Hi Dylan.'
'Hey, we're just setting up for your lesson.' I smiled, handing one of the small people a cup of orange.
'My lesson?'
'Yeah, you know...the lesson you've prepared. I told you about it yesterday...on Facebook.'
'But you're not my friend on Facebook.'
There's a reason for that, dick head.
'Really?' I asked. 'Ah, well. They're ready when you are.'
Jason swallowed hard, took his place at the back of the room and logged on. The screen faded up quickly with that annoying 'Welcome Back!' noise, displaying a desktop full of minimized windows. In the two seconds he had them all visible, I could see he was halfway through an episode of '24', chatting to three friends, writing his blog and had began a Google search for local mountain bike shops. There started four agonisingly pleasurable minutes of Jason clicking away, the silence only filled by the hum of the monitors in the room. Then something amazing happened. He clicked onto his chat window and typed these words.
'Got to go, teaching a lesson to a bunch of rems.'
I know this because his screen was projected behind him, onto the screen for the room to see. Thankfully none of the kids read it. But Janet did.
'What was that?' Janet said, staying in her seat.
'What?' Jason looked up.
'What did you just type?'
'I was just setting up the programme.'
'No you weren't. It came up on the screen.'
Jason paused as his face scrunched up, trying to figure out what she was saying. Janet pointed behind him, making him turn slowly. This was brilliant because I didn't have to do anything. This was all unfolding without out any work. I could just sit back, maybe start a game of solitaire, check my e-mails. But I didn't. I just sat next to Janet and witnessed my revenge.
'Oh,. I was just saying goodbye to a friend. Well, she's not a friend. We went out for a bit...'
What a self-absorbed prick.
'What an odd way to say goodbye to a friend.'
'She's not really a friend.'
'I don't care.' Janet said abruptly. 'Can I speak to your manager, please?'
'Yes.' Jason said, clambering out of his seat and heading for the door.
Janet peered around the room, making sure none of her children had seen what Jason had written. Luckily not, they were all busy playing with the programme I opened for them, matching pictures of science apparatus with their names.
'I'm sorry about that, Janet. I'll start for him.'
I know what you're thinking, Jason didn't have a lesson planned and neither do you. Well, I did. I opened up a new programme, Janet told the kids to pay attention and I began, slowly reading out my notes and talking light-heartedly about simple ideas. I asked the children to talk about what they use in their bedrooms that may require electrical current, meanwhile Jason and a rather confused Bernard appeared in the door-frame. Jason was about to walk right it, but Bernard stopped him, letting me finish my lesson and Jason finish sweating in his flip-flops.
'
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