Fall 2009 and another EMT Basic class to teach. I walk into the classroom and there sit twenty people. Oh my God, you expect me to teach these people how to be EMS providers? The first thing I need to teach them is that boobs hanging out of shirts tend to give men who already have chest pain full blown freakin’ heart attacks. Come on, seriously now, does the dude with pink hair and bones through his nose really think ma` ma` is going to let him within 100 feet of her? I look around and most of them haven’t even taken the books out of the wrapper; what part of their syllabus didn’t they understand? Read Chapters one, two, and three for class one isn’t rocket science for chrissakes. Well the challenge begins; can I make these twenty people EMS providers in 16 weeks?

I stand up front, introduce myself, and this snot nose little 18 year old whines, “how come I have to call you Ms. Taylor, my other teachers let me call them by their first name?” Well bully for them I think; to him I reply through gritted teeth, because that is what I prefer to be called. Like I owe him a damn explanation for my name. Now their introductions begin and I’m sure I’ll be ready to take a knife to my throat before the twenty of them are done. “I want to help people, I love excitement,” and my personal favorite; “I can’t be a firefighter unless I have a basic license.” Yeh, all great reasons, but let me tell you how it is, “Lives will be saved, and cute little babies will be delivered, but never ever on your shift.” As for the firefighter, fantastic freakin’ reason; they are making you learn how to take care of people, I’m sure you will be great at this!” We start lecture on Chapter one and just about two of them have read the material. Great start to an already long day. The other eighteen are just shocked the can’t participate in discussion, hence the reason you got the syllabus at least two weeks before class started. The blank stares and open mouths are more than I can handle at the moment so I send them on a break. Maybe no one will come back and I get the rest of the day off. Paddy Murphy’s here I come!

Break is over and they all come back. Great! Lecture starts for chapter two and five minutes in three students are asleep at their table snoring. My hopes are high for them (not so much). When they get TB because they slept through the lecture on how not to, they best not come running to me. My give a care factor will be ZERO. Time for a group activity and I count them off into groups of four. The pissing and moaning are almost deafening. “I want to be with Suzie, she’s my friend.” I don’t even know him; I sat next to Joe so we could work together.” I explain to them, once again through gritted teeth, that in the big people world we don’t always get to choose who we work with, so suck it up and get on with it. Thank God Chapter two is over and I can send them to lunch. I head out to my car and pull out the flask under the seat and take a swig. Jose` will certainly dull the pain of this group a little bit. I may have to consider having a second flask on hand for this semester. Two swigs, a couple smokes, a little nap and back I go. Give me strength or bail money; I still have three hours to go.

Back from lunch they come, I look around and they are still twenty of them. Fantastic! At least two of them have taken my advice about making new friends, though maybe a little too literally. When I ask him to take his tongue off her tonsils he is all pissed off. Oh well at four o’clock he can have her back. Chapter three lecture starts and I can see the afternoon will be a replay of the morning. I try to make it interesting but it is a lost cause, so I just drone on with the clock ticking in the background reminding me of just how long this afternoon is going to be. I wonder if I could get it turned ahead, dismiss them and then get it turned back before the janitor comes in. Last group activity for the day and at this point I don’t give a damn who works with who. Just group up and get it done so we can all get the hell outta here.

It is finally 4:00 pm and I can send them on their merry way. I give them the homework assignment and the uproar begins. I tell them, once again through gritted teeth, that homework is not optional, unless they want a big fat F in this class. I pick my crap up, throw it in the office, and head out to my car for another pull off the flask. Fall Semester 2009 has begun, better make a trip to New Hampshire for tax free liquor.