Sitting on the
Throne
by Don Drewniak
I was fresh
from having graduated college with a B.S. in BS
or something similar in 1965. After doing nothing
for two months, I was running low on cash and
opted to take a position as a sixth-grade teacher
in a small town in Massachusetts.
A twenty-minute
recess followed sixth-grade lunch. I drew outdoor
recess once or twice a week weather permitting. A
second teacher was on duty with me. This allowed
me to play basketball with some of the students.
I was playing on a very hot and humid day during
the fouth week of the school year.
Male faculty
members were required to wear long-sleeve white
shirts and narrow ties. I was covered with sweat
when the end-of-recess bell rang, and hurriedly
asked the other teacher on duty to bring the kids
back into the school. It was off to the only
faculty room.
The room was
small and had just enough square footage for a
couch, a chair and a small wooden table with a
coffee pot on it. A tiny restroom containing only
a toilet and a World War I vintage sink was
positioned at one end of the room. The toilet
faced the restroom door which in my haste I
pulled open without giving it a second thought.
Uh-oh!
Sitting on the
throne was Miss Cotter, a first-year fifth grade
teacher. Both her skirt and panties were around
her ankles. To make matters worse, we both froze
for a few seconds until I came to my senses and
closed the door. Needless to say, I was highly
distracted during the afternoon’s teaching.
I didn’t want to have to dwell overnight on
what happened, so I decided to offer an apology
as soon as the students were gone for the day.
I knocked on
her door.
“Come in.”
She was
sitting at her desk. I stopped ten feet away.
“Miss
Cotter…”
“Jane.”
“Jane, I
apologize. I should have knocked.”
“And I
should have locked the door. Don’t worry
about it. You’re not the first guy to see me
with my panties down.”
My brain
turned to mush. I have no remembrance of what I
said in return. Most likely, I sounded like a
blithering idiot.
We became good
friends throughout the rest of the school year.
When I returned for year two, Jane was gone.
Another faculty member said that she had traveled
to Hawaii for a two-week vacation. While there,
she wired her parents asking to have some of her
clothing shipped to her. She accepted a teaching
position on The Big Island.
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