The elevator
Memories seem to revive (1 * 2) as it get colder.
Or ... as people get older???
I won’t deny I am immune to aging,
and ― as proof ― recount one of my memories,
something that happened at the beginning of this year.
I teach at a junior high and high school.
That building has 9 floors and 4 elevators.
The higher you go, the older the students.
One day,
I was on my way to teaching an English composition class
to 6th graders (=3rd year of high school)
with a Japanese teacher in his fifties.
We used the elevator.
A bunch of high school girls, 




crammed like canned sardines,
took the same elevator,
to one of the
upper floors.
One of them was clearly wearing make-up.

To tell the truth,
I don’t really care,
... as long as they study.
Neither does the other (Japanese) teacher.
(Let’s call him
“Mr. K”.)
Somehow,
that very day,
I had the impression
that Mr. K was going to say
something.
I won’t say
he was going to complain,
or make a scene
,
but at least give his opinion
on “proper behavior at school
”.
This particular girl 
,
however,
was a split second faster.
She said 
(in Japanese):
“Don’t stare at me like that
just because you think I’m pretty!”
OMG! 
OMGって?
Mr. K was ― read “we were” ― so surprised
,
amazed,
astonished,
astounded,
startled,
speechless,
that he (we) couldn’t even give a decent reply
before she 
got out of the elevator
on a different floor.
Hardly had the elevator doors closed
before both of us 
burst out in laughter.
We enjoyed a fantastic class ― with other students.
Facing defeat has never been more fun!

