The Code

In celebration of Sam Houston and Texas Independence Day, Imma tell you about my 7^th grade Texas History teacher, Mr. Stephens.

But first, a bit of history (har har).  The summer after my 6^th grade, I came up with this brilliant idea of code writing.  I mean everyone did it at some point or another.  Back then, we didn’t have text messages we could send off, no we actually used ink and paper and wrote notes then folded them in some spiffy origami flower that took hours to undo and then put back together.  We were creative damn it!  College rule, 18 pages, FRONT AND BACK!!! You fell asleeeeeeeep?!!

My first day of 7^th grade, I hit up Reece, my bestie, and tell her about this new code I created.  I then decide to give myself the “JENIUS” title.  Yes, I rock, and I rock hard!  I tell her she can learn this code in one day and never forget it.  I get her hooked, she tells me she’s up for the challenge.  By our 2^nd week in JHS, we could put the code all up over the lockers in graffiti and no one would know what the hell we were writing.  It was awesome.  I was a JENIUS!

For 4^th period I had Mr. Stephens.  He was right before lunch and Erik (with a “k”) was in that class.  I had the biggest crush on Erik.  We were suppose to get married and have beautiful bebe’s…but God had other plans for me.  I was the quiet…YES believe it or not…girl in class.  Always did my homework, was never worried about pop quizzes, and focused although my future babies daddy sat right across from me.  Mr. Stephens chewed tabacco, spit in a can (barf), was total redneck, big ‘ole Selena dad bifocals, wore western button up shirts, tight wranglers (stranglers) and cowboy boots.  He bragged about his construction company and how he built our school and how this was amazing and blah blah blah blah blah.

Personally, I was scared shitless of the man.  He didn’t take shit and I was the last person ever wanting to give him any kinds of problems.  Every 7^th grader took Mr. Stephens class.  On the first day of class, he walked around with a huge ruler giving us the rules.  No talking when he talked.  No passing notes, no drinks, no food, good grades.  By the 2^nd day of school, everyone who walked into 4^th period was giggling before the tardy bell rang.  I sat at my table with my group and looked up at the ceiling.  There were 4 letters stapled to the ceiling.  By the first month, there were more than 20.  If you got caught passing a note or reading a note, he’d take ur note, staple it up to the ceiling right then and there.

If you wanted to know the latest gossip, he actually allowed you to go into his class during lunch break and read all the letters.  It was awesome…unless you got caught.

Well, 2^nd semester, I’m in his class and I’ve received 100’s on every test.  I basically aced that class 1^st semester and he makes me student of the year for his class.  Which is ironic, because he never chose anyone, or so he said.  So about a week later, I’m in the middle of a long note passing, gossiping conversation with Reece and she has someone give me a response in 4^th period.  The tardy bell hadn’t even rung and I’m opening the note about to try to read the first part when Mr. Stephens slams his loud ass, metal ruler right next to my books and scares the crap out of me.  He grabs the note and I’m mortified.  He opens it, takes a long look, flips it over, rotates it, and is just confused.  He gives me back the letter and says, “See, that’s why you’re my student of the year.”

After class he stopped me and asked me where I learned the code from, I told him I made it up.  He laughed and said, “When I grow up, I want to be as creative as you.”

Not everyone knows “THE CODE.”  My closest girl friends do.  The rule is no guys can know it.  If I have something to say at dinner and we’re on dates, I write on that napkin and they can read it in 2 seconds.  Everyone who knows it has learned it in 2 hours tops.  Some forget it, but it slowly comes back.

I’ll be honest with you, I personally can’t believe I still know the code.

And that’s why Erik with a ‘k’ never asked me to be his baby’s mama.  WAH WAH!! eh, whatev’s, i’m fucking rock hard awesome. LOL ahahahaha :p