Tower/Sassy-Re Catholic School.
Morning, ladies. I'm pretty sure I posted this little misadventure on the P.I. board a year or so ago, but being as it was the beginning of my fall from grace with the catholic church, it's worth a retell.
I attended the 6th Grade at Holy Cross, a catholic school located in Las Cruces, New Mexico.
Well one day during recess myself and my partner in mischief, Jaime James, (yeah I know, who names thier kid James James?) decided that we would go off campus and spend the quarter each of us had been given for serving as altar boys at a funeral mass earlier that day. Going off campus was a no no and returnig late from recess was a capital crime, not to mention a mortal sin, punishable by hanging without annointment before burial. Well that may be a slight exaggeration but it was considered a very serious offense.
The craving for a Butterfinger got the best of us so off we went with all the stealth and ambiguity our 12 year old masters of deception skills could muster up. We basically ran like hell, while Sister Teresa wasn't looking, to the Woolworths a couple of blocks down the street. Our plan was going well as we approached the store with ample time to make our purchase and satiate our sweet tooths while enjoying a leisurely stroll back to the school grounds.
Upon entering the store we immediately were drawn by the presence of a brand new shiny pin ball machine. Apparently Satan had made a visit to the store and deposited this classic beauty only the day before. We had no more chance of resisting this beautiful siren than a steel ball bearing, rolling down hill towards a huge electro magnet. Geeze it was only a nickle per game.
As we reluctantly drug ourselves away from this engineering marvel to the candy aisle to get our Butterfinger bars a sense of sadness came over us, but alas time was a wasting, so we grabbed our goodies and promptly dashed to the checkout counter. Guess what the change was from our purchase. Um hum, 4 nickles each, but our resolve was strong as we ambled toward the exit. Just as we were about to reach the door Satan once again popped his ugly head into our lives. A wonderful combination of noises reached our tender ears, ding ding ding, kapow, kazing, someone had put a nickle in the Pinball. Come on Jaime just a quick look.
Well needless to say, as we stood and watched a gentelman with lightening reflexes stroke this baby like Don Juan would would a beautiful maiden, we were hooked. The guy won a couple of free games and smiled down at us, our faces beaming back in admiration of his superior skills, and inquired, "would you kids like to play these free games, I gotta get back to work"?
"Gee Mister, would we ever", we replied in unison. Well, 2 free games, 8 nickles and 25 minutes later, we sauntered toward the door.
On a rather slow stroll back to the dungeon, we decided that perhaps if we came up with a diverson we could detract some of the attention from our misdeed to a less serious crime. Our scheme went something like this.
As we entered the classroom Jaime fell to his hands and knees and began crawling on all fours while muttering "Water water" as I walked behind saying "Patience, patience". I was keenly attuned to the series of emotions that Sister Teresa was showing via the expressions on her stern unyielding face, as we continued towards her in an aisle between rows of desks. Her fave was getting redder by the second. She went from relief to confusion, to anger and seemed to be in a state of befuddled rage as we ultimately were close enough that I could smell the onions on her breath. All the while during our procession Jaime had continued to mutter, "water, water" while I intoned, "patience, patience" with wisdom of a twelve year old sage. The plan was for Jaime to tug on Sister Teresas habit and say, "please dear sister could you spare but a small sip of water for a humble donkey?" after which I was supposed to say "patience is one of the most rewarded virtues my son".
Then we would plead that the reason we were late was because we had spent the time creating this skit in order to impress the virtue of patience on our classmates.
Well good old Jiame pulled his part off to a tee, but when it came time for my response, up jumped the devil, again. I paused long enough to look Sister Teresa right dead in the eyes before looking down at Jaime who had his head turned up at me with an expectant look on his face. It quickly changed to stark bewilderment when I yelled out, "PATIENCE YOU GAWD DAMNED JACKASS, PATIENCE.
The class found our antics uproariously funny, Sister Teresa on the other hand was not so eaisly ammused. After she came out of shock and regained control of her motor skills she grabbed me by the ear and with a blood curdling noise in a banshee like voice yelled Jaime come with me. Dragging me by the ear Jiame taking three steps to her one we went to see Mother Superior.
And this was the end of my Catholic school career. Jaime got a reprieve as his parents were wealthy devout catholics who contributed mightly to the local diocese.
Satan continues to rear his ugly head in my life from time to time, but other than having one ear that's a little bigger than the other the damage has been minimal.
