I went to a Catholic school
I'm not Catholic, but I went to a Catholic school. This meant the nativity play probably got a bit more attention than it would otherwise; Protestant schools probably sing a few carols, secular schools probably replace Jesus with a tree, but the Catholic school? Oh, not the Catholic school; their principle is to find the nuttiest Irish woman they can and stick her on Nativity Duty.

So, the big date is nearing, and we all get ushered into the nursery; HQ for the big event. When you're young everything seems so much more intimidating, so much more... eventful. Looking back on it now it feels as though we were rushed in to the briefing room, to rally the troops before the big push; looking back on it again I'm sure crazy Irish lady felt the same way. It was almost as though the big A3 sheets of coloured paper covered in childish crayon scribbles were not just the creations of some confused 3 year old, but rather the intricate and detailed maps of enemy lines; the musky haze coming from the Chief of Staff not the horrendous cigarette habit of an old lady, but a strategically placed smoke-screen to hide our operations from that school across the road.

As any good leader does, the lesbian spinster laid down her plans. She briefed us on the situation. Looking sternly at each of us in only the way a god-fearing Irish lady could - and thank heavens she had faith in a god, 'cos she feared nothing else - she laid down the scenario; we were up against a hall of not just our teachers, but our mummies and daddies, and our friends' mummies and daddies, too. Winter was biting hard upon our young, tender cheeks; nativity time was arriving.
Stage two of the plan was the assigning of roles, we needed a Mary, a Joseph, the Shepherds, the Kings, the inn-keeper, and as many other unnecessary roles as possible to use up all the kids from the first to the penultimate year; year 6 was logistics. Typical of her brutal efficiency she turned to each of us in a snap, "You, Joseph; you, Mary; you t'ree, you're de Shepherds; and you and you and you, you're de t'ree kings..." Each assignment delivered with staccato force and landing sharply and firmly on our apprehensive ears.

It took a couple of minutes to register from the haze, from the adrenaline rush that takes a man over in these situations; I'd made it... I was Joseph! Suddenly a euphoric feeling flew over me, the second biggest acting role, and the first biggest that wasn't a girl; I was Joseph, I was fucking Joseph!

I already began making plans, the brown dressing gown, the tea-towel for my head, the lines scribbled down in B2 pencil in my finest non-joined up handwriting. The weeks neared, I'd learned my lines, I'd prepared my costume, I'd even planned in conduction with the Greek kid who was to be Mary. With go-time fast approaching we were hustled into the hall for our last non-dress rehearsal; this was it.
The old Irish lady looked at us, "You, Joseph; you, Mary; you, de t'ree Shepherds..." Hang on, something was wrong here. Our orders must've become confused in the Fog of Nativity; she pointed at someone else on the first call; no, that's not right! I was Joseph, I'd learned the lines, I had the costume, I'd even practiced with Mary. I wasn't a Shepherd, I was Joseph, I was Joseph, I wasn't a fucking Shepherd!

I stepped forward to lodge my protest; but the smarmy cunt jumped ahead and took his unrightful place next to the increasingly confused Greek Mary.

I was robbed - forced to go on stage a lowly Shepherd - I'll never forget the day they stole Joseph from me.
(Frozen_Banana Shaved against the grain; thoroughly unrewarding., Fri 27 Mar 2009, 11:35, 2 replies)

A "brown dressing down"?
Is that when you *really* get shat on?
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Fri 27 Mar 2009, 12:05, closed)

Oo-er
Corrected!

That's sinful in the eyes of the Lord, you know!
(Frozen_Banana Shaved against the grain; thoroughly unrewarding., Fri 27 Mar 2009, 12:12, closed)