Mystery poo class
I was at a very posh school between the ages of 13-18. Because of the contracts offered to teachers at said school, once a teacher had got in and passed his probationary period, it was practically impossible to uproot him. For this reason, the place was stuffed to bursting with ageing bachelors who were, quite frankly, bats.

One of the best of the bunch was a particular history master, who shall be called here Mr. K. Now whereas other teachers had amusing eccentricities, speech impediments, nervous ticks and the like, Mr. K was an absolute cracker. I mean properly round the twist – superhumanly so. He was famous for once fixing his eve on a boy who had been talking in class and bellowing at him: “My God, boy, if I hear one more word out of you, then you shall feel my cold hand in your warm intestines.” That shut him up.

Mr. K also had a dog, a Labrador, which followed him pretty much wherever he went, even during teaching time. By coincidence, it happened that the teacher who occupied the classroom opposite Mr. K’s also had a dog.

And so it was that one day Mr K’s class was interrupted by a shriek from the corridor. He flung open the door to see the teacher from the school room opposite pointing in horror at a dog poo on the carpet. An argument quickly sprung up. As far as he was concerned, the culprit was Mr. K’s Labrador and no two ways about it. Nonsense, said Mr K., his dog would never do such a thing. “And furthermore, don’t you own a dog? I bet it was that disgusting mongrel of yours.” The initial exchange led to shouting, accusations of softening of the brain and worse.

But it soon became clear that both were unwilling to give so much as an inch, and so, at Mr. K’s suggestion, a boy was eventually picked from each class to enter the corridor with a ruler in order to measure the distance between the offending poo and each of the classroom doors; the closest classroom would then take responsibility.

But it of course turned out that the poo was precisely in the centre of the corridor but slanting at an oblique angle, which sparked all sorts of animated discussion about what constituted the start point of the poo and how any measurements should be taken from it. Should both boys start measuring from the same point of the poo, or should they start from the point nearest their home classroom? This technicality assumed extreme importance – the former technique gave advantage to Mr. K, but the latter to the enemy. This very quickly re-ignited the row to full blast.

Much much later, when it became clear that nobody was going to back down, the other teacher suggested that the poo be divided equally and that each side should bear responsibility for clearing away one half. Mr. K grudgingly agreed. A boy stepped out, cut the poo in half with a ruler, and with that, it was over.

Best history lesson I ever had.
(quefelli, Fri 30 Jan 2009, 18:31, 1 reply)

If true
then I love this story even more
( chart cat has an itch, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 5:13, closed)