Reggie, MacGyver and Me

MacGyver is arguably the most useful television show of all time. Now, I know this is a pretty sweeping statement that will have people with two left feet and 12 year old girls—trying to make sense of all the changes happening to their bodies—outraged and lead to the espousal of their respective views on the primacy of So You Think You Can Dance or Degrassi. However, neither of these shows can teach you how to defuse a bomb with a shoelace and chewing gum, or how to make a parachute out of an apple, a goat, and four Goldfish (the delicious snack that moms say are “ok,” not the starter pets for children that you’re not sure can manage a guinea pig).

A few nights ago, I had a bomb of my own to diffuse, figuratively speaking of course, and thanks to my good man MG, I was able to MacGyver my way out of the situation.

The story begins with a promise to go to my friends going away party on the first Monday evening of my summer training. Without fully knowing what training held in store, I told my buddy I’d try to see him before he left for Tanzania to do some non-profit micro-credit cow thing (I believe it has something to do with raising miniature cows that can be sold to carnivals and circuses). Well, the plan seemed fine until my arrival Sunday afternoon, when I was informed that I had my first interview on Tuesday. Unfortunately, Tuesday and interview, were the extent of the details that I received, so I realized that I had to be as prepared as possible Monday night. This meant creating a teaching portfolio (think superhero’s resume) sometime between dinner and leaving for Sam’s party. Then, I found out that I would have to wake up at 7 AM in order to be on time for my interview. By the time I finished my portfolio, it was well past 11 PM, but I decided to travel into the city anyway. The first speed bump I hit involved the fact that I had parked in a lot where the gate had been locked at 11 PM. After much schmoozing with a security guard, I convinced him to open the gate. I then arrived downtown, watched all of my friends stumble into a creperie, said goodbye to Sam, and drove back to Queens.

When I arrived at the only gate to campus that remains open past 11 PM, I rolled down my window and handed my ID card to the man in the security booth, whom I later learned was Reggie. After scanning my ID, Reggie extended his arm to hand me back my ID. Unfortunately, due to a minor miscalculation on one of our parts, the ID left his hand before it found mine, and slipped to the floor where it managed to find its way through the crack in a sewer grate. At 1:30 AM with less than 6 hours before I had to wake up for my interview, I had already been stressed out and questioned whether I really should have gone into the city. Now, after my card landed in the muck 6 feet below the grate, the answer was clear. Nearly, devoid of hope I hopped out of my car and peered into the darkness below the road. With the aid of Reggie’s flashlight, I spotted my ID card lying well out of arms reach.

Luckily, Reggie was not as pessimistic as I was. Apologizing repeatedly, he suggested that we try to get it out using a broomstick and something sticky. He rifled through his security booth and emerged with two pieces of self adhesive Velcro. After using a rubber band to secure the sticky, backside of the Velcro to the bottom of a broomstick, I lay prostrate on the ground, and attempted to guide the sticky tip to my card. However, the Velcro proved ineffective. I asked Reggie if the security booth had any Band-Aids, but after rifling through the first aid kit, he told me it did not. But, he optimistically told me that he might have some in his car. As Reggie, began to walk towards his car, I entered the security booth and looked through the first aid kit—shocked that there was nothing sticky in there. Yet, before ambling back to my car, I noticed a roll of duct tape under some papers. I shouted my discovery to Reggie, so, he returned to help me design a new card-removal-from sewer device.

Lying face down for a second time, I carefully squeezed my two hands as far as they could go into the grates, without dropping the broom handle. The duct tape made contact with the card, but only pushed the card deeper into the mud. I resolved to flip the card up on its side against the wall and to try again with a new piece of tape. On my third attempt, I stuck our creation as deep as I could get it down the sewer drain, and guided it slowly towards my card so as not to ruin the adhesiveness of the tape. I pressed the tape to the card, pushed hard, closed my eyes, and pulled up gently. I slowly opened my eyes, and to my amazement the card had been wrenched free of the muck, and was now stuck to the pole. I carefully lifted the card up, as Reggie rejoiced above me, praising Jesus and thanking the Lord. “Hallelujah!”

Five hours of sleep is plenty!

So It Begins

Some time ago, I realized that making money isn't everything and that a life dedicated to saving the world could make measly paychecks worthwhile. Unfortunately, both Superman and Batman have hiring freezes (thank you economic crisis!), so on to Plan B--professional dancing and teaching. I've already secured a teaching job (well...sort of) for the days, but I've yet to receive any positive feedback from prospective employers concerning my "dancing" resume. Despite this initial setback, I remain optimistic, mainly, because I hear the tips are a great way to supplement your rent. Fortunately, I don't have an apartment, or even know in which borough in NYC I'll be teaching, so at this point, rent is an afterthought.

However, in future posts, you can look forward to all the shenanigans involved in interviewing with principals, searching for an apartment, living in a huge, gigantic, enorrrrmmmooouuuusss triple in a dorm at St. John's University--site of my summer training for TFMC (Teach For My Country, a subtle pseudonym for the organization that hired me--necesarry because of some rules about using their name in publications--but has yet to place me in a school that will actually pay me come the beginning of school)--and other adventures related to the life of a superhero/teacher in NYC.

ONE LAST THING, apparently this whole real world deal, with jobs and bills and what not, is pretty time consuming... SO, I hope you'lll bare with me if the posts don't come as quick as they used to (think about it). Enjoy. Find it funny, but read with caution, as you might watch fox news. And wish me luck.