Whichever school I attended would have an agreement with a shoe company, and that company would frown upon me doing advertisements for a competitor. While I might legally get away with it, it would be a huge distraction at the very least.
“You didn’t want to tell Mr. Morris because he isn’t as devious as you are,” I said.
“I’m only looking out for your best interests,” Ms. Dixon said reasonably.
“I agree; he doesn’t need to know about this to get David his partial waiver. But I’m not sure it matters because I doubt he’ll be doing anything but going to school and playing ball,” Dad said.
“I won’t even deign to comment on that,” Ms. Dixon said.
“Remember that I’m his father. I have to tell myself that he won’t make the same mistakes we did when we were in college,” Dad said.
“Good luck with that,” Ms. Dixon said.
“Please! I’m much more responsible than either of you were at my age,” I said.
“Like going to a strip club over the weekend?” Dad asked.
Frick! He’d done an excellent job of not letting on he’d heard about that. He obviously hadn’t told my mom.
“Uhm, I have to go if I plan to get any lunch today,” I said and hung up.
◊◊◊
I had a meeting with Mr. Quiroz, my business teacher. He wanted to talk to me about my class project.
“How is your project going?”
“Good. We’re about to launch the shopping app for the convenience store,” I said.
“What do you mean by ‘we’?” he asked.
“My team. Everyone who helps run my businesses,” I said.
He shook his head.
“The purpose of this project was for you to do all the work on it, not to parcel it out to others to help you,” he said.
“I did all the planning myself, but the actual implementation I left to the people who do that kind of stuff,” I said.
“Then I’m not sure I can give you a passing grade on this.”
I took a moment to wrap my head around what he’d just said.
“Let me ask you something. Has anyone else actually taken their plans and made a real go of it, or is it all just on paper?” I asked.
“That’s not really the point,” Mr. Quiroz said.
“Did you look at my plans on paper? Were they ‘A’ work?” I asked.
“Well, yes, but the project was to do it all yourself. Not involve others.”
“So, if I hadn’t told you we were actually going to implement my idea, I would get an ‘A’?” I asked.
“Like I said, it really isn’t the point. When you told me others were involved, I have to wonder how much else they helped with.”
This guy was a dumbass.
“Wasn’t part of the project to talk to actual business owners?” I asked.
“Yes. To get ideas, but not to do the work.”
“Who said anyone else did my work?” I asked.
“Well, no one …”
“You just assumed,” I said.
Mr. Quiroz gave me an exasperated look.
“Can I ask if you’ve ever run a business?” I asked.
“You don’t need to have practical experience to teach the theory of business.”
I sat back in my chair at that revelation. I had so many responses I wanted to make to that comment, none of which would endear me to my teacher at that moment. Making him wrong would only make matters worse, so I tried a different tack.
“I obviously took my project too far for what you wanted. I apologize for that and will confine my class discussion to the business plan and not the implementation. For the plan, I did all the work myself,” I said to reassure him.
“That works,” he said, seeming happy. “You’re actually the only one done with your class project. Would you be willing to assist some of the other students to get their projects done?”
This was almost too much. First, Mr. Quiroz threatened to fail me, now he wants me to help my classmates. If I’d done such a horrible job, why would he want my help?
Then there was the whole ‘you have to do your work yourself’ tidbit. How would my helping them be them doing their work on their own? I needed to graduate from high school as soon as possible before my head exploded.
“Sure,” I said.
That seemed to make his day. If he could fob off his work, he seemed happy for it. If he worked for me, I might fire him. Then again, the old saying—‘those that can, do; those that can’t, teach’—might have come into play here.
◊◊◊
USC was making their in-home visit tonight. The plan was for them to meet with Wolf and Tim separately and then come to our house. At the appointed time, I was somewhat surprised when only Head Coach Clayton showed up.
“Rob, Carol,” he said as he shook my parent’s hands. He then turned to me and smiled. “David.”
“Coach,” I said.
“I thought we would be most comfortable in here,” Mom said as she led us into the kitchen.
She had picked up cinnamon rolls from Granny’s West on her way home and had made a fresh pot of coffee. Coach Clayton made a mistake when he turned down a pastry. He had no idea what he was missing.
“Before we get started, I wanted to tell you that I reaffirmed my offers to both Tim and Wolf. I can’t imagine a better way to kick off next year’s class than to have the three of you …”
