Celebrity

I will now be wearing a T-shirt that says, "It's ok to stare.  I'm kind of a big deal in Japan."

As if my natural charisma and jua de vive weren't enough, I will now have to work double time to fend of the babes and paparazzi because, that's right, my celebrity status is sealed--  I'm on film.

Of course, this film will probably sit in a box in an office storage room for about 22 years until an old janitor throws it out because a new company took over the suite, but until then, my fame is out there... somewhere.  Yes, yes, this was actually a performance review by my parent company, Interac.  Basically, they just want to film me and make sure that I don't absolutely wretchedly stink at my job.  (Don't worry, I didn't beat any of the kids too hard today, so I think it'll be fine.)

It went pretty well, except for the 30 seconds of crash and burn when the English teachers (yes, there were two Japanese nationals who are English teachers in the room) randomly sprung a new activity on me that was none too easy for the kids to follow.  So, they point at the earth, throw a parachute at me and shove me out of the plane.  At this point, I'm thinking it would be a good idea to put the parachute on and figure out how to keep this activity from splattering like a rotten tomatoe on Fozzie's face.  (Sorry, I'm mixing my metaphors with dead horses teeth that haven't hatched yet.)  Eventually, through a combination of the English teachers realizing the immanent crash-burn status of the class (which is being filmed in all its gorey detial) and walking down the isles practically doing the activity for the kids, and me grabbing the reigns from up front and pantomiming the whole thing so that everyone can understand without actually comprehending English) we managed to salvage the situation in under 30 seconds.  Let me just say, that's a long time when 35 students are looking at you with not just blank visage, but clearly fuddled and confused faces.

Confusion is an ugly beast.  As soon as it has a foot in the door, its in.  And then, it just barges through everywhere, destroying all processing centers and cutting off all memory banks... and then it spreads... to other students.  Once one kid gives any sign of being flustered, its like free licence for all nearby students to similarly wave the French Battle Flag.

You have to nip that in the bud and keep them looking at you.  Whatever you do, you can't let them settle into the fact that they don't get it.  You have to grab them by the soul through the eye sockets and keep 'em going. 

I think I was a field lieutenant in Nam in a former life.

So, that's the breaks in the teaching biz.  Its a fine line between dancing bear and puppet master.  Maybe the utter brilliance of it is that they think they're being entertained, but really, I'm twisting their minds into learning English beneath the radar of their wills.  Mwa ha ha ha.  Its so nefariously Machiavellian that it just might work.  They're aliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiive.  Aliiiiiiiiiive with Eeeeeeeeeeeenglish I tell you.  Eeeeeengliiiiiiish!  A ha ha ha.  Mwa ha ha ha ha.

I'm going insane here.  Somebody please mail me a ticket before I become one of them.  I feel it spreading.... the... yellow.... feavvvvvvvvvvv c