Teacher Trumpets: Screecher Teacher

Have you ever noticed that female teachers are the meanest of the lot? They appear to be sweet on the outside but underneath all that charm rests a vindictive serpent ready to strike out at you if you put one toe out of the line. And at times this alluring skin of theirs comes off even before you have committed any such heinous crimes.

The teacher I will tell you about today is no saint (well, wasn’t that obvious if she earned herself a spot on my favorite domain?). She is a typical Medusa, beautiful and tiny on the outside but a freaking monster with snakes for hair on the inside.  And like the fabled Medusa of Greek Mythology, she can turn people into stone with just one stare of her EVIL eyes. Gosh, that woman is a Class One Bitch!

At first we thought she would be the nicest of the lot since she was the only female table teacher in our Prosthodontics lab. And she was good enough on the first day, although a little over-the-board with terminologies that sure as hell fled our minds as soon as she stopped talking about them.

Some people in our class (read: The Nerd Herd) even considered her to be a role model in Prosthetic Dentistry as she taught us how to take edentulous impressions for the first time. Well, I held a neutral ground where she was concerned that day since her pace (should I compare it to a tortoise or a snail?) diminished her status in my eyes (yeah, I am don’t like slow people).

But since then my position as Switzerland has definitely sunk underwater:-


Taking impressions is difficult. Okay, I can’t be so diplomatic. It is CRAZY HARD!!! If the freaking thermoplastic compound is not screwing you up when you are not looking then its the hot water that loses its heat as soon as you get to the part where you need it to be boiling hot!

And if all that hadn’t been cruel enough, I had to be one of the few losers in class to actually land myself a mandible die, which is a very stubborn die when it comes to giving impressions. I mean what is its bloody problem? Just my luck to be stuck with the wildebeest of impression dies.

Every time I thought that I had nailed it, I would be sent back by the pretty Medusa, who always seemed to find something or the other wrong with my impression. From cloth marks to wrinkles, light grooves to light impressions, she picked apart my samples so minutely that taming the raging demon inside me became difficult. I mean, who the hell sends a student back fifteen times? FIFTEEN FREAKING TIMES!

I don’t know how I managed to control my rage but thank God I did. Knocking a teacher out with one punch to her face is seriously overrated (as in expulsion overrated) and I have no interest in getting myself kicked out of the one place I always wanted to study in even if it’s not what I always wished to study.

But finally, I did manage to master the stubborn die (I guess digging out whatever little patience I had in me to get the job done did pay me off in the end). But by then the wonderful little teacher, who had seemed so sweet and nice earlier, had already shed her skin and showed her double horns and forked tail to me.

This awareness has really sucked out all my enthusiasm for Saturdays. But maybe I should count my blessings that I don’t have to tolerate this menace more than once a week. Gosh, what a nightmare!

And that’s not the end of it. The woman has a tendency of asking pesky questions every time we go to her to get approval for whatever we have done till then. Somehow she forgot to treat us to this particular brand of torture when we were Trimming our impressions, but it came out of nowhere and clonked us over the head when we started on Beading and Boxing.

And believe me when I say that something is loose in that head of hers since she always seems to gravitate towards a question you don’t know the answer to. Yesterday was the first time I was able to answer every damn question she threw at me until she found out my weak link and fired directly at it.

Then the woman had the nerve to ask me if I knew the previous answers because I had asked around what she was generally asking before coming to her. I mean, what the hell? All the questions she had asked others were about the maxilla while she had asked me about the mandible. Frail-minded hag!

And don’t get me started on her prowling practices. She never comes around when people are actually working in silence but somehow manages to turn up and catch us red-handed when we joke around for the first time. It’s as if she has a radar attached to her skull, ready to pick out victims for her constant nagging and stern comments.

*Sigh* I can’t rant enough where she is concerned but if I continue to do so then I will have wasted too much time on this particular hag of a teacher. And we can’t have that now, can we? So I have got to end this tirade with the parting words that if you have ever experienced such irritation from a similar Medusa do share your stories as comments below and we can together return them their favor and pick them apart!


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