The Rebel in you.......

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The last time I really rebelled I was 14 ,attending a girl's boarding school in Toronto in the late 60's which I hated.
We had a social studies teacher from Wales who was not well liked by most of the students.One of the maintenace men also disliked her,he gave a key to the 'ring leader' of the group I hung out with.We went into her room and 'ransacked' it.I remember putting Vasoline Jelly on the toilet seat,others sprayed her perfumes /short sheeted the bed etc.
We were summoned to the head mistress office,we got expelled,my parents were horrified by what I did,I didn't care
 
In what sense are you a rebel?
In the purest of sense.

Push me into a corner with no where to turn, and I'll show you just what a rebel I am.

There are no "exit" and "enter" doors, they don't exist... doors are doors (push comes to shove, pardon the pun), and I proved that point just the other day when I exited the supermarket through the entry doors. Don't think for a second that I'm going to push my shopping cart back into a store, then proceed to walk back into the store to weave and bob my way around people, isles, and counters, only to end up at a dedicated set of doors that suggest... "exit here", because it isn't happening.

When I buy a salmon fillet, I expect a salmon fillet, NO PINS... so when I grilled two salmon fillets for hubby and I a few months back and found both loaded with pins, I picked up the telephone and contacted head-office.

My husband is a rebel, too, for just 3 weeks ago when exiting the post office, he kindly held the door open for a police officer, who arrogantly walked through the held door with not even so much as a smile, so holding true to hubby's ways, hubby stood outside and waited for the officer to exit, and once the officer was outside, hubby proceeded to dress him down accordingly and remind him how things work when others hold a door open for you.

As far as I'm concerned, possessing a little rebel in oneself is a good thing.
 
The last time I really rebelled I was 14 ,attending a girl's boarding school in Toronto in the late 60's which I hated.
We had a social studies teacher from Wales who was not well liked by most of the students.One of the maintenace men also disliked her,he gave a key to the 'ring leader' of the group I hung out with.We went into her room and 'ransacked' it.I remember putting Vasoline Jelly on the toilet seat,others sprayed her perfumes /short sheeted the bed etc.
We were summoned to the head mistress office,we got expelled,my parents were horrified by what I did,I didn't care
From Wales?Oh dear!🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿.Wonder how this Welsh teacher would have fared?:D
 
To give you an idea, back in school once i got to the class and the teacher told me that everyone was calm until i got there. love it.
 


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