Mrs Gravedigger
There were quite a few odd teachers at my school, but none odder than Mrs Gravedigger. This wasn't her real name, but her real name did sound a bit like Gravedigger and, well, we weren't that witty.

Mrs Gravedigger was an art teacher who wore floaty blouses and lots of beads and floated around the school as if in some sort of parallel universe. She would often be seen muttering to herself. None of the other teachers were ever seen talking to her - she lived in her own little world.

She used to refer to us as "good children!" and "naughty children!" even though I went to the kind of school where you'd get threatened with a flick knife if you looked at someone funny. She also had a strange hatred of boys. She would talk randomly about "good, sweet girls!" and "nasty, naughty boys!" It was unheard of for a girl to get below a C grade for her homework, or for a boy to get above a C grade. In fact, in year 8 my mate James and I swapped exercise books for a few weeks to test this out - sure enough, his grades improved dramatically when she thought she was marking a girl's work.

She also couldn't teach for shit.

So, we've established, Mrs Gravedigger was a matriarchal nutcase. Anyway, one day, she was covering a maths lesson when our teacher was off sick. As I went to a school where a lot of kids had foreign names, there was a system whereby if a teacher was taking a unfamiliar class, instead of trying to call everyone's names out to take a register and embarrassing everyone, they'd just send round a sheet of paper for us all to sign our names on. So, on this particular day, we all added our own names plus one more.

The list got back to Mrs Gravedigger, who got out the register to fill it in, and started to look very confused. She stood up. She did a head count of the class. She counted the names on the list. She did a head count again.

"That's funny!" she said to herself, "Twenty-six children in the class.....fifty-two names on the list..."

She counted the list again. We were all practically weeing our pants with suppressed laughter by this point. Then the awkward questions started.

"Calvin? Is Calvin Klein in this class?"

Some smart alec had the presence of mind to say, "He's just gone to the toilet, miss!" A few people started to lose their composure a little. It couldn't possibly get any more ridiculous than this, could it?

"Mickey Mouse?"

At this point, we all lost it. A class of 14-year-olds, all laughing so hysterically they'd practically lost control of their bodily functions. Mrs Gravedigger was NOT impressed. She was very upset, and went off to complain to the head of maths.

The head of maths was a very strict teacher. A very good teacher I might add, but not one to be messed with. When he strode into the classroom, we thought the game was up and we'd be in detention for the rest of our lives. In the end, he just took one look at her, and at our list, and then gently led her away.

We never saw Mrs Gravedigger again. Rumour has it she ended up in an asylum. I'm not sure how true that is, but she definitely was a complete fruitcake. Genuinely one of the battiest people I've ever met, and responsible for the funniest thing that ever happened to me at school - including the time we persuaded a boy that boys had periods.

However, there is a postscript to this story. Imagine my astonishment when I saw Mrs Gravedigger on a TV commercial a while ago, for Yellow Pages! It was part of a campaign where they featured people whose services were advertised in the publication, and she was featured as an Alexander Technique teacher. Check page 5 of this out if you don't believe me. That's her.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 22:14, 1 reply)

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I wasn't sure what the "alexander technique" was, so I assumed the picture was of your teacher feeling up someone who appeared to be playing a piano.

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexander_technique

the truth was a little disappointing, but I still had a giggle.
(Gazebo will eat you on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 9:34, closed)