When I was a senior at Triton, it was decided that I would not be going on the class senior trip to Washington, DC. Reason? We (we being my mom and dad and I) couldn't afford it. Mom and dad had barely two nickles to rub against each other and I had used up my meager savings from my summer of work at Mr. Softee's office.
Since I couldn't go on the trip, I had assumed, wrongly, of course, that I would be able to stay home and begin reading the books I was required to read by early September for my college English class. Well, that was a wrong assumption. The few of us who were unable to go on the trip were required to show up and assemble in the auditorium for our "day of fun".
This day consisted of field hockey, calisthenics, gymnastics, and any other torture the phys ed teachers could think of. We didn't have math or English or foreign language, or anything academic, just a day of physical abuse. As you can tell, I'm still bitter about it.
Now, I liked gym and I especially liked gymnastics -- all of it. But when combined with hours of other physical activity, well..
I woke the next morning and couldn't move. My dad called the school and told them I wouldn't be there for the second day of senior trip activities for those who stayed behind, instead he was taking me to the doctor. Well, that doctor happened to be a chiropractor and he adjusted me which only added to my pain. When we got home, Dad sent me back to bed because he was tired or hearing my moans and groans. Mom got a hot pad out of the linen closet and made me put that on various places that hurt.
On day three of the senior trip, my father called the school and after telling them I wouldn't be in for the rest of the week; and he wrote a letter to the principal telling him that he didn't appreciate the way the kids left behind were treated. Of course, I avoided the principal for the rest of the year because I was so embarrassed.
At any rate, I know the classmates that went to DC had a great time. Me? Not so much.