Metal Shop Girls

In the late 90's the road of life shat me out at the front of a shop class at the local high school.

I'd hated high school myself, but in the fullness of time I came to the realization that steady day shift and summer off might not be a bad gig.

So I became a welding teacher.

You didn't see a lot of girls in the shop classes those days. But they might hang around because their boyfriend was in the class.

What bothered me was, a few years after high school, the girls would be working at Tim Hortons for min wage, and the guys would be at Bruce Power making fifty bucks an hour.

So I figured I needed a sales pitch to get them in the course.

You don't need a penis to be a welder.

By the second year about a quarter of the class were girls. 

They were tough bitches. And, the one thing I least expected, they talked to me.

And I don't mean about the welding lesson. For some reason, a lot of these gals seemed to think I needed to know when they missed their period, etc.

Then it occurred to me, they just need somebody who will listen to them.

I'm not their boyfriend, I'm not their dad; I might be the only dude in their world safe to tell stuff.

I'm really having trouble with my dad. I wanna get a tattoo, and he's gonna kill me...

I ponder this.

What's the tattoo gonna be?

Oh, I want a butterfly. I've got it picked out at Zap's tattoo shop downtown.

I ponder that...

So where you puttin' the tattoo?

She turns around and pats her left butt-cheek. I ponder that.

How often does your dad see your ass?

Long story short, I inadvertently solved a problem in this young woman's life, just by applying a little common sense.

I've got hundreds of stories like that, which is a gift even more precious than the Teacher's Pension Plan.

Thanks!