That feeling you get when the conductor asks a low brass player if they can play their part louder and you see the person say ok and smile mischievously and you just KNOW they’re going to blast the hell out of that part next time around
For those of you just listening in, our stores do classes and birthday parties. For the week of spring break, we have a class that runs the entire week where little kids can come in and learn how to do a craft each day.
…the kids that come to these things are usually under the age where spring break is an actual thing. Oldest so far is 7. Our youngest is 3. Average is about four.
This does, however, lead to some interesting interactions with small children- which I’m willing to do. (It’s almost always the parents I have a problem with.)
The first is a tiny three-year-old to whom English is her second language. This presents a unique challenge, but if you lead by example you can work around language barriers enough to communicate.
We were making monsters out of clay, which amounts to making a pinch pot, turning it on its side, and then decorating it with googly eyes and making teeth, horns, spikes, and whatever else you might decide to put on a monster face.
This little girl…
Three eyes, horns, spikes down the back, a forked tongue, stripes on the tongue, spots on the skin, a lunch pail, and a mustache.
She was so proud of this neon mess of monster that she began menacing people with it. But instead of making ‘monster noises’ like the rest of the class did, she would just creep up on you silently and set it just out of your line of sight. And when you finally noticed that there was a monster there, she would hide behind you, giggling menacing.
[flourishing a paper dramatically] for my next batch of weirdly specific and irrelevant headcanons, i give you: voltron driving hcs
pidge – too young to drive, but when she turns 16 literally no one is surprised to discover she is an awful driver. her turns are too sharp, her stops are too sudden, and she doesn’t watch her speedometer (“ma'am do you know how fast you were going?” “uh…35” “60”). i’m not entirely sure that she even passed her driving test, but i am totally sure she takes matt’s car anyway.
hunk – also not a great driver. he just. never really gets a feel for driving. in the first six months he drove, he got three flat tires and countless dents. good news: he’s good at fixing cars. he just cannot drive them.
lance – honestly, a good driver, but he always has music blasting and is always dancing and it scares the life out of hunk (“lance please put your hands on the wheel!” “lance please stop tapping your foot, that’s the gas pedal!” “LANCE YOURE GONNA MISS THAT TURN–”). he has never been in an accident, though, and genuinely enjoys driving. therefore he is the official driver between himself, pidge, and hunk.
keith – That Asshole who thinks traffic laws don’t apply to him. has never gone the speed limit in his life. common conversations in his car:
“keith, stop tailgating that guy, he’s going the speed limit” “well it’s too slow!!”
“keith stop that’s a red light” “don’t worry, there are no cars around and this intersection doesn’t have a camera”
“please slow down oh my god that’s a sharp turn yOURE GONNA FLIP THE CAR” “[laughing as the tires squeal]”
again, though, he is a genuinely Good Driver and has never been pulled over, much to lance’s annoyance.
shiro: everybody /thinks/ he’s a good driver bc he’s the model of safety whenever he’s driving the kids (“i’m not pulling out of the driveway until everyone is buckled up”). then, one day, the kids are driving on the highway and they see shiro’s car speed past, going at least 90mph and weaving between traffic. incredible.
allura: doesn’t drive often, but when she does, she has RIDICULOUS road rage. like, she’s a good driver otherwise, but whenever someone cuts her off or something, she’ll hold down the horn and then rant at her unfortunate passenger (usually shiro) for a solid minute. at least.
coran: perfect driver. uses turn signals perfectly, smooth turns, effortless merging. if he’s running late for something? all of that way past the speed limit. best driver.
matt: could be a good driver in theory, but never focused on the road. he zones out so easily that, like pidge, he’s almost constantly over the speed limit. “[staring unseeingly at the road for five minutes] shiro do you think gerard way is happy?“ "please god let me drive”
Steve, Bucky & T’Challa: Well mark us down as horn-
Sam: *sprays them with cold water* No! No more! I’ve had it up to here with your libidos. You had a go in the morning, after breakfast and even before we left for the movies and don’t think we don’t know about you three sneaking him to the restrooms. You didn’t even try to be subtle. All we want is our nights back where we don’t hear you four moaning. That’s all. We’re not asking for much. Give Clint a break. Look at him, he has anxiety!
Everyone: *solemnly nod while patting a pillow-clutching Clint on his back*
Try to Intimidate my disabled neighbor? I'll make sure you get dropped by your sponsors.
So this ended about four months ago, and still makes me happy whenever I think about it. This might be long sorry.
I’ve lived in this apartment complex about a year or so and it’s
pretty nice I suppose. My next door neighbor is an older lady who
happens to be disabled. While I don’t know the actual extent of her
disabilities, I know she needs help from time to time and If I’m around I
try to help. She’s really sweet and about once a week she’ll make me a
plate of something homemade to eat since I work nights and really don’t
cook. Her pork chops and fried cabbage are 🔥.
We both live upstairs and she uses a wheelchair but she can walk up
and down the stairs slowly, and if I’m around I’ll carry her wheelchair
down, but her daughter usually does it. Her daughter picks her up every
morning on her way to work and takes her to this community center
everyday so she can get out and socialize and such.
This is where this guy comes in, I like to call him Young Douche. YD
is your typical piece of shit in that he is super obnoxious in
everything. He drives a suped up Subaru that’s really loud and plays his
music so loud I can hear the bass from upstairs. Also he likes to park
in the one handicapped spot. Our apartments management is super shitty
and they don’t get involved with anything and refused to get involved
Now before he moved in my neighbors daughter used to park in the
handicapped spot to pick up her mom, but since this dickhead started
parking there she’s had to park in front of his car so she can get her
mom. I tried to be nice and left a note on his car but nothing really
changed but it was no big deal at first.
One morning I’m asleep and get woken up to this guy just holding down
his horn non stop. My neighbors daughter had parked in front of him and
he couldn’t get out. When I looked outside I could see him get out and
start harassing both my neighbor and her daughter.
I could hear him talking shit so I put some pants on and walk outside
and see dude all in the daughters face. She’s like 4'9 so he’s looking
down on her like he’s gonna punch her, then my neighbor tried to calm
him down and she put a hand on his elbow and he slapped her hand away
I saw that and ran downstairs but as soon as I opened the gate and he
saw me he backed off and got back in his car then started honking his
horn again. I waited there until they left, then he left, not before he
flipped me off while driving away.
So at that moment I knew I had to fuck with him. My other neighbor
knows him and told me about dude. Apparently he’s big in the custom
Subaru scene and he does shows and shit with his car all the time. He
has sponsors that sometimes give him parts and they use his car in their
ads I guess.
Anyway It took me awhile to come up with some good revenges so I’d
do simple stuff. I had expired milk in my fridge because I really don’t
drink milk often but I like cereal occasionally and just had some, so
I’d start putting a little bit all over his car when I got home. After
awhile you can smell rancid milk all over it. But that wasn’t enough.
I needed a real big Fuck You so my other friend found out he had this
big show coming up and dude had a photographer come and take pictures
of him with his car. The night before the show I go to AutoZone and get
the shittiest Decals and bumper stickers I can find and spent about an
hour and a half putting these all around his vehicle. When I was done it
looked horrible. I even did a swastika of Honda, Ford, Lamborghini and
Fiat decals on his hood. While nothing I put wouldn’t permanently damage
his vehicle, it would take hours to take it all off.
So about 6 am when I guess he was going to the show I hear screaming.
He’s yelling so loud that some other neighbors go outside and see
what’s up. When they see it’s him they laugh and go back inside.
He then called 911 and they show up but it’s not like there’s
anything they can do. Then the cop actually gives him a ticket for
parking in a handicap spot without tags then they left.
Apparently he had to make that show for his sponsors or else they
were gonna drop him, supposedly he was hard to work with and it was the
straw that broke the camels back.
Now even after all that, dude STILL kept parking in the handicapped
space. Eventually when I got home from work I’d just start throwing
trash on his hood. I once threw a chocolate shake at his windshield.
Seeing this car in the handicapped space every night really pissed me
off for some reason. Anyways he eventually moved out . Still hate that
How having an amazing teacher can change your life
Get ready for one long text post.
I started playing horn in seventh grade and I was really shy, like hopelessly shy. Playing in front of people was impossible for me. My middle school music teacher was annoyed by it, but didn’t do much to change it. So I just never played solos. Ever.
Then I started high school. It was horrifying walking into the music for the first practice. I was one of two horns in the entire school. The other one was in 11th grade so I was all alone in jr. Band. And then the music teacher walked in. And everything went down hill from there.
This man was the most egotistical person I’ve ever met. (We took coach buses everywhere we went cause it was good for our ‘image’, it’s uncommon to take a coach bus here) He didn’t care how bad he made us feel when we screwed up. If it wasn’t perfect he wasn’t happy, cause that meant we wouldn’t get gold at festival and that’s all he cared about. He made that very clear. I practiced so hard to be able to play the way he wanted me to. It only made my previous anxiety about playing worse. I cried so much during rehearsal and he didn’t care he just kept going and basically told me to get it together.
When band class started in second semester of that year. I couldn’t play in front of people without bursting into tears. My final solo was a disaster. After that, I wanted to put down my horn and never play again.
But I played again next year. He needed his horn player. I was “important to the integrity of the band” He convinced me to come back and It was a little better.
Until the musical started. We did into the woods as our musical and everyday after school for three months I had to deal with his need for perfection. I was told I wasn’t good enough, everyday for three months. It wasn’t a typical conductor saying we weren’t going to be ready to perform a piece. He said we were horrible. I started crying once and he told me to “get it together, real performers don’t cry” All he did was berate me and others. I hated myself.
When our longer weekend practices started we would break for half an hour for dinner. One day we were screwing one part up. He wouldn’t let us eat until we played it perfectly. By the time we did we had five minutes to shove food down our throats, or what was left of it after the cast ate anyway. It was the lowest I’d ever felt in my life. We are high school students, not professional players.
But then it all changed. For the better (thank god)
I moved about a year ago, just after we finished our musical and started at a new high school this year, so I had a new music teacher. I remember the first day walking into the music and instead of a gloomy, hateful atmosphere. It was loud and happy place and everyone was laughing and a shoe went flying through the air. I approached the music teacher and told her I play horn. She was giddy. She told me about all the bands they have at the school and about the music they play and stuff they do, and before I knew it I was going to fall music camp.
It was the most fun I’d ever had with music ever. I made so many friends and began to come out of my shell. She complemented my playing and instead of berating me when I played it wrong she would help me. She made me excited to play my instrument, something I hadn’t felt in two years. Recently for a solo in class, she brought in her own horn and played with me so I could hear how it sounded and felt. She nor any of my band mates made me feel horrible about myself again. I’ve only ever cried once at a rehearsal this year. I started to get way more confident. I can play when she calls on me. It’s hard to believe I’ve only been at this school for seven months.
I told my new teacher at the beginning of the year, right off the bat, I would never play a solo for her.
Today, at festival, I played a solo in front of a heck of a lot of people and an adjudicator.
I have no idea why I kept playing horn at my old school when he made me feel so bad about myself. But that doesn’t really matter now. I’m happy at my new school and really proud of how far I’ve come. It really goes to show you what the difference between a good and bad teacher can make for a student.
summary: Of all of the stupid shit Lucy has done while drunk, entering a contract with a demon probably takes the cake. The icing on said cake, however, is the fact that neither of the two know what the terms of the contract are. Until they figure it out, Lucy is stuck living with a demon who doesn’t really understand the concept of keeping a low profile.
“Hi.” The horned man is sitting on her desk and moving his legs back and forth as if he’s on a swing and not very cheap, breakable material. “I’m looking for someone.”
Lucy points towards the door. She is beyond hungover right now, and frankly, cosplayers hanging out in her room at - she checks her phone - nine in the fucking morning doesn’t begin to make her list of the top ten weirdest things to have gone down in res. It doesn’t even make her top fifty, really.
“You know who Lucy Heartfilia is?” Horned-man asks.
Should she call the cops? Probably. Is she going to? Probably not. Lucy bobs her head (bad move, bad move, gravity doubles down for a solid ten seconds what the fuck, physics-) and waves at her face listlessly. Horned-man brightens. The blonde feels her stomach roil in response. Ugh. It’s way too early to be that chipper for anyone.
“Hi! I’m E.N.D., but you can call me Natsu! I’m a demon. You made a contract with me last night.” He hops down and fishes around in his pocket as he walks towards her bed, retrieving a neatly folded square of toilet paper which he holds out to her. She squints. She can make out her signature but the rest looks a lot like her lecture notes when she’s doing them half asleep. Definitely her writing and definitely illegible.
“I was directed to this room after you signed it and then you showed up later, but you know how drunk people are; you could have been anyone just looking for an empty room to crash! So I had to wait to confirm,” he explains. “Now, do you remember what the terms of the contract are? Because I can’t read what you’ve written.”
Lucy can’t even remember the word for the colour of her walls at the moment, but she can’t vocalize that quip thanks to the desert that has made its home in her mouth. She settles for a thumbs down. Horned-man (Naruto? She swears it’s Naruto) laughs nervously. “We, uh, might have a problem.”
Besides the fact that I’ve somehow made a contract with a demon? Wait, what? Demon? Whoa, back up. Demon. Like, actual demon ohmygod what-
“I can’t get back to Hell until I fulfill the terms of this contract.”
“I’m gonna be stuck here with you,” he says. “So, uh. Hi?”
Lucy opens her mouth and her stomach decides that right then is the perfect time to empty itself all over Naruto-demon-dude’s white pants. Because what better way to greet her new roommate than with nacho-and-martini flavoured upchuck?