Part 3 in Magazine Man’s story about how his first-grade son got detention for doing the right thing, and how he fought the system.
“Still locked. No one here yet.”
I turned. “Not even Mr. Assouline?” I asked.
The custodian shook his head. “Not yet. I’d a known, cos I’d a hadda let him in.”
I sighed and took a seat—a very tiny seat—outside the office…
At 7:30, an hour after he had agreed to meet me, The Dean of Discipline, Mr. Assouline walked in. He did his very best to focus on his mail, his keys and talking to the secretary. He obviously knew who I was, but was determined not to acknowledge my presence.
It was, however, impossible not to acknowledge Assouline’s presence. Based on his nasally voice, I had expected a rail-thin, school-marm-strict Ichabod Crane type.
In fact, Mr. Assouline was HUGE. He stood well over six feet and had to duck to get through doorways. He looked like a football player, complete with very short crewcut hair and a flat, crooked nose.
Read part 3 of the story at Somewhere on the Masthead.
(If you want to read all 6 parts, you can get links to all the parts at my writing and storytelling blog.)
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