The usual stuff: everyone having sex is over 18, there are no STD's or COVID and the ride is always more than 8 seconds.
Mike was hiding out in the janitor's office eating lunch and waiting for 9pm. It was parent-teacher conference night. It disrupted his normal routine, but it also meant a couple of hours overtime. He picked up an engineering textbook and started to read as he ate. Before he knew it, it was 9:30. He glanced out the window and saw there was only one car remaining in the lot.
He grabbed his four-foot dust broom and started down the aisle. He would make one pass all the way to the far end of the corridor then lock the doors there, turn and make his way back before locking the doors at the other end. It took two passes up and back to cover the whole floor. After shaking the broom out, he headed to the second floor. He made the first pass down and was halfway back when he heard something coming from the classroom on his right. He stopped to listen and heard someone, a female he thought, crying.
It was coming from Miss Wrights classroom. She was a first-year teacher who seemed very competent. At 5' 10" and 150 pounds she looked more like a track and field coach than an English teacher. Mike thought it probably wasn't her crying, but a distraught student, maybe even a parent.
Whoever it was, he had to get them out of the building. He knocked on the door but got no response, but the crying stopped.
He knocked again and said, "I'm sorry but you're going to have to leave now."
This announcement did not get him a response, so he said, "Is everything okay? Do you need any help?"
Still nothing so he tried the door. It was locked so he used his key and pulled the door open. He found Miss Wright sitting at her desk, an impressive number of used tissues in front of her. She looked at him angrily then turned her head away from him.
"I don't mean to interrupt miss but I couldn't help hearing you. It's almost ten o'clock, you should be going home. Is there something I can help with?"
"No, it's all right, I'm fine," she replied as she tried to stand then fell heavily back into her chair.
"Bullshit, you're not fine. What's got you so shaken? A student? A parent?"
"It's none of your concern, Mister?" she asked tentatively.
"It's Mike, just Mike, you know, the janitor?"
"Oh yes, yes of course, that's how you got in. I was sure I had locked the door, then suddenly there you were."
"Would you like some water? I have coffee in the janitor's office."
"How about a bottle of Jack?" she asked jokingly.
"Well yeah, I keep one around in case of snakebite," he said to lighten the mood.
"Lot of opportunities for snakebite in the school is there?" she wondered.
"More than you would think. Every couple of days I take a preventative shot, just in case," he teased.
She looked at him intently then asked, "And how far away would this miracle cure be?"
"Follow me, it's just down the trail a bit," he said as he held the door open for her.
She went to her closet and gathered up her huge purse, bookbag and coat then walked out hitting the lights as she did. In the hall she turned to ask the way, but he was already pointing to her right. She turned and they walked in silence to the stairwell then down to the first floor. He led the way to the office, opened the door and ushered her in. He pointed to the one comfortable chair before going to a row of ancient lockers. He spun the combination lock, opened the door and pulled out a nearly full bottle of Gentleman Jack.
He set the bottle on the desk then reached behind her to pick up two coffee mugs. He poured the mugs half full and slid one over to the teacher.
"You must have some serious snakes if it takes this quality of sipping whiskey to kill them," she said appreciatively.
"The cheap stuff only seems to annoy them," he said grinning.
This brought a small smile to her lips. She reached over and they tapped mugs before she took a healthy swallow. She emptied her mug in two more swallows then asked with her eyes if she could have a refill. Mike picked up the bottle then leaned forward to give her another half mug.
The whiskey seemed to calm her to the point where he thought it safe to ask, "So what was the crying jag about?"
"Oh god, nothing, everything, life, who knows."
"So what, personal life? School, parents, kids, faculty, administration or did I miss something?"
"No, you seemed to get almost everything in one short sentence."
"I'm glad I have my thesis statement then," he remarked.
"I hated writing a thesis," she said.
"You know, I did too until I had a professor tell me what a thesis is," he told her.
"Oh, this should be good. What, pray tell, is a thesis?"
"This is what I have to say about that."
"Isn't that a little simple?" she scoffed.
"No really, think about it. That is the sum total of a thesis. No more, no less. Anything else is just filler," he insisted.
She sat staring at him then drained her cup. She kept staring at him as she poured her third half mug. Finally, she grunted and said, "That professor is absolutely correct. I wish I had known this freshman year, hell freshman year of high school. It would have relieved a great deal of stress."
"Well, the Jack will relieve a great deal of stress also, but he exacts his revenge in the morning," quipped Mike.
"Yes, that's true, I wish there was an easier way to get some relief," she said as she picked up the bottle for a refill.
"Some people say sex is the best stress relief," he blurted without thinking.
Her hand froze halfway to her mug as she fixed him with a glare.
"Jesus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that I should, that you should, that we should um, well shit." He trailed off.
