Mr Cole
This week's question about eccentrics has brought tall tales, quips and some lists. My story here may or may not be true, but I've chronicled it here especially, just for you.

As I sit here at my computer, I'm reminded of my old form tutor at secondary school, a wizened man who dressed in tweed and played the fool...

(Something to denote regression of time, like fading out or wavy lines)

Up to the age of about fifteen, the majority of my teachers were grumpy and mean. Not a one could take a joke, they'd give us detention for sneaking a smoke out the back of the sports hall.

Rain or shine, P.E. would always
be a time where kids with asthma wheezed and coughed, the bigger boys would get sent off and teach would force us, every one, to run cross-country til we'd come to the end of our breath, we'd cross ourselves, make a prayer and welcome death.

Humanities were not much better, history and geography teachers would set us masses of homework, tonnes of tasks, just too much to be asked of frustrated kids with stuff to do, lives to lead and computer games to play through.

So anyway, at about fifteen, a new breed of teacher came on the scene. Mr Cole looked old and grey, but a realisation soon came our way. This guy was strange, somehow different, unafraid of snide or judgement. His clothes harked back to days of old, his mannerisms up-front and bold. His teaching style was fast and furious, and often he'd take time to inform us of background history, facts and stories which helped our memories but didn't bore us.

Many things about him were eccentric - his manner of dress and his incredibly thick, curly hair and beard, which other pupils considered weird but I found quite endearing. Despite his age, he wore an earring, a silver stud and was generally cheery - apart from first thing in the morning, his mood was always good. The pop music, upon which he frowned, nips from a hip-flask that he downed. He'd often puff away on his pipe, and look at you with one eye slightly squint and askew, as if he was looking and a different direction from that he was talking.

I'm sure you're getting the idea, so I'll sum up now for fear of bleating on too much and losing you - not something I want to do.

Mr Cole, my favourite eccentric geezer, sticks in my mind for a particular reason. For the school's Hallowe'en party, he dressed up as Moriarty. The art teacher, dressed as Old Mother Hubbard, enticed old Cole into a cupboard for an illicit fumble, during which the cupboard tumbled and, during his last erotic adventure, he shot his load and choked on his dentures.

Rest in peace, Mr Cole, you strange, eccentric, musty old soul.

(A quick footnote for those with a good eye - this post may contain elements of lie)
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Tue 4 Nov 2008, 10:17, 2 replies)

I like this
I'm reading it in the style of 'Twas a Night Before Christmas.
(oneinthepink is at your cervix m'lady, Tue 4 Nov 2008, 12:54, closed)

:)
Next month... haiku!
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Tue 4 Nov 2008, 13:00, closed)