I went to an arts high school in San Francisco. I know zero science but I can write a mean metaphor!
  1. We had a huge, immaculately manicured football field even though we had no sports teams.
    Kids would use it to smoke weed and do the occasional under-the-bleachers rendezvous.
  2. My math teacher had pink highlights and was a Burning Man devotee. She would always use the number 420 in every word problem.
    Is it even called a word problem? I haven't taken a math course since her class sophomore year.
  3. I had a big crush on an Irish Catholic white guy in my creative writing class who frequently incorporated the word 'barrio' into his poetry slams.
  4. The stoners were the cool kids.
  5. Our Creative Writing teacher hired a Botu instructor who had us crawl all over the football field during class and moo like cows.
  6. At one of our creative writing readings, the principal's daughter read a poem about having sex on a bicycle when she was 15.
    What I want to know is how you do that. She didn't go into the logistical details which is something I would have appreciated.
  7. When I started dating the 'barrio' slam poet, we spent a lot of time at his best friend's house. He would have a Red Stripe and his friend's mom would offer us acid, shrooms, and homegrown weed.
    It was rude to say no. I spent a lot of time pretending to know how to use a bong. To this day bongs give me anxiety. What happens with the thumb? When do you take it off the hole? Ah!
  8. A man in a poncho briefly taught our community service class. He had the boys apologize to the girls for being boys and oppressing us.
  9. Our college guidance counselor was 70-something and desperately wanted to retire and move to the mountains, but he told me 'they' wouldn't let him.
  10. Our creative writing teacher once trimmed a student's armpit hair in class.