The Ice Lolly Post

Many, many years ago two girls were running late for a class with a rather strict teacher. The saving grace was that this teacher was a very good one so her snark and barbs didn’t always wound. But she valued punctuality and that’s one thing college students are notorious good at being bad in.

It was nigh on summer and these girls were hot and bothered and desperately in need of ice cream or something of its ilk. What was available was ice lollies. Disgustingly full of sugar and made from God-only-know-what kind of fake flavors and what kind of sewage water but damn! they tasted GOOD! And it didn’t hurt that they were uber pocket-friendly.

This strict teacher had a pet peeve about her students coming into the class with orange and purple colors smeared around their mouths, on their hands and then putting sticky fingers on the top of the desks and everywhere else. Just to make sure that the girls would tow the line, she’d outright banned the treat from her class.

Wouldn’t you know it? These two girls happened to throw caution to the winds because they thought they’d have enough time to finish the lollies, wash their hands and make it back in time to the class to capture the vantage seating areas.

This teacher had quite a few super powers; one of them being her ability to sniff out when a student was deliberately distancing herself from the lecturer because a) the homework wasn’t done b) she was unprepared for the class or c) because she was daydreaming about catching up with her bf as soon as the class got over d) all of the above. In which case the student in question would be e) SCREWED.

Whatever be the case, she would zero in on that one (or as many there were because she was just that good!) hapless student and make her answer or face the Eye Of Shame for being unprepared.

As luck would have it, these two girls were about to have a rather crappy time in the class because luck did to them what pigeons often do to statues-poop all over them!

Not only did these two girls get a brain freeze from trying to down the lollies at an express speed, the teacher decided to come to class earlier than usual because she had somewhere to go immediately after class ended. And so the follies began.

The girls, who had footlong ice lollies which were only a quarter of the way done, rushed into class and sat all the way at the back to hide their flushed faces and sticky hands. They propped the lollies up behind their backs and really put on their game faces as they tackled some intense metaphysical poetry.

They also had to appear attentive, ‘in-the-moment’ and proactively answer questions to look like this was just another day and that John Donne’s metaphors weren’t at all confusing and slightly reeking of desperation from a guy looking to get laid!

And what happened to the lollies might one ask? Well, had these girls been smart, they’d have thrown the lollies away before entering the class however, absence makes the heart grow fonder for all manner of junk and the lollies decided to change the way the game was being played.

They started to get softer. The condensation rolled forward and as the ice inside melted, the formerly vertical lollies decided to lay down and take it easy for a bit.

And out rolled purple and orange sugary syrup that had nowhere else to go except towards two denim-covered posteriors that would do an excellent job in soaking up liquid.

Did I mention one of the victims was in light blue color denim on which orange wasn’t the best shade to stain?

It is rather hard and extremely uncomfortable waiting for a teacher to leave post haste while a liquid of indeterminate origin stains your clothes and wets your inners. It’s even more difficult to get up and admit that you were an ass for not listening to the teacher and an even bigger ass for just sitting there and wearing melted ice as a part of your attire.

But kids will be kids and they (im)patiently waited till the class got over and ran out before anyone else barring their extremely-supportive best friends got to know of the emergency in their pants.

This was the saga of the Ice Lolly. Never was it indulged in again. Except in solitude and without anyone to see what a sticky (literally) end it could come to.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.