“You rang me up today” says Mr TLC.
“I know”
“I mean you rang me again.”
“No I didn’t”
“You didn’t mean to, I think you knocked something on your phone, but it was you, I could hear you. You were teaching.”
I think about the rather less than exciting lessons I have delivered and cringe at the thought of Mr TLC listening in.
This is ridiculous of course, I don’t mind people watching me teach (or even listening in). In fact anyone in the corridor or the office next door can hear me loud and clear, but Mr TLC has a certain mental image of me as a good teacher. Not one who drones on about stuff instead of delivering thrilling and interesting lessons.
“You were talking for ages.”
Oh dear.
“I tried shouting you,” he adds.
“What?”
“I shouted your name over and over, but you didn’t hear me.”
The thought of Mr TLC’s voice calling out in the middle of the lesson strikes me as very funny. I wish I had heard him. It’s no wonder I didn’t, I may have forgotten to lock the keypad, but my phone was set to silent, as it always is during lessons.
Which is a shame, because I’d love to have seen how my class reacted to a disembodied voice, coming from the apparently empty space behind my desk and interrupting the lesson. Oh well, maybe next time.
Mr BW does this to me regularly, accidentally. I hear amazing ‘stuff’ if I can be bothered to listen…