Electric teacher

It's that time of year again, when I am always embarrassing myself by shrieking and and leaping in the air and dropping things.

It is DRY, and I have become electric.

I know it seems that I spend half of the year complaining about how humid it is and the other half complaining about how dry it is, but there is a reason for this. It IS. Dry, I mean. And humid. If you calculated the average humidity for the year here it would probably be ideal. Unfortunately it is very rarely average, and right now it is fantastically dry.

I demonstrated this today in one of my classes. I walked in, carefully using my little deelectrifier thingy on the metal door so I wouldn't get zapped.

"What's that?" asked my students, and I explained. They learned a new word: static electricity, which I wrote on the board. I demonstrated how my little gadget lit up when I touched it to the door. They were impressed, and wanted to try it. When they did, nothing happened. Apparently I am the only one who comes to the classroom fully charged.

I went over to the air conditioner control box to turn it down a little. It was cold out, but stifling in the room. I reached out my finger to hit the button and a spark jumped the gap. I leaped and shrieked. The students gasped.

"What happened?" they asked.

"Static electricity," I said, succinctly, indicating where I'd written it on the board.

"Doesn't it work?" they asked, pointing at the gadget, which was in my other hand.

"Yes. It works," I snapped. "I just didn't use it."

I took two steps to the video cabinet and unlocked the door. As I bent down to pick up the remote control I was zapped by the cabinet itself, which is made of metal. I did the leap and shriek thing again, and turned to face the students. They were staring, fascinated.

"But I touched the cabinet when I opened the door, and nothing happened!" I wailed indignantly. "Why did it only zap me when I touched the shelf? And I just grounded myself on the control for the air conditioner! And it was only TWO STEPS! How could I work up another charge that quickly?"

"Eh?" they said. I had gone beyond their comprehension. Babbling isn't in the textbook.

"Oh, never mind," I said. "Does this happen to your other teachers?"

"No," they said. You could see them thinking, It's a gaijin thing. Gaijin are weird.

I put the video in. The sun was streaming in through the windows so I paused the video and closed the blinds. Then the fluorescent lights were reflecting in the TV monitor, so I decided to turn them off. I walked over to the light switch. As I hit the switch I did the shriek and leap thing again.

I turned and stared at the students. They weren't laughing so I didn't kill them. In fact they seemed to think the whole thing was terrifically serious, and quite frightening.

"Why don't you use it?" asked one, frowning and pointing, and I looked down at the gadget in my other hand. "Because I am EXTREMELY STUPID," I didn't say.

"I keep forgetting," I said. "Usually it's just the door that gets me. And the chalkboard ledge. Aren't the light switches plastic?"

"No," she said, and I corrected her to, "Yes." (Negative questions always get them.) She added, "Your face is red." They all nodded, solemnly amazed. I knew my face was red. I could feel it. I was lit up like a stop sign.

I decided I didn't feel like dredging any more language teaching out of this, and started the video. I might be the only electric teacher they have, but enough is enough. It is possible to be too entertaining.

Besides, it was making me grumpy.