It was a pleasant lunch of rubbery spaghetti and lightly bruised steamed vegetables. "I can't believe the educational system has gone down so much. I see kids coming to school and they don't look like they want to go." I chewed steadily. "Where is the money going?" I nodded. "And how can you be paying for materials?" "What do you mean you have no books?" My eyes widen. "I know you're telling the truth. What do the other teachers do?" I make a rolling motion with my hands. "You all do this?" I cough. "I thought you were going to the doctor." I cross my eyebrows. "I know it's been a busy week." "Did you take a cab here, by the way?" My face doesn't move. "Why can't you walk?" My eyebrows lower and my skin feels yellow. "I know you're in pain. I know you're out of shape. You're letting yourself fall apart." "For what? I mean you collect a salary, but you spend most of it on the job." I drink my water. "It never changes. But, it's got to change if you're going to go on with your life. Can't you just explain your situation: it's too far, they need too much..." I press my hand down lightly on the table. "You're telling me they don't care. Doesn't the UFT care?" I shrug my shoulders and put my palms up. "It's not their decision, I know." (Pause)
"Let's get the check."
I thanked him for lunch.
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