Sep 24

Sep 24 Learning from the School Drop Off Line

*Note - this article is very much NSFW. I try to keep my language relatively clean, but today’s subject is one of the few things in my life that still sets me off.

My daughter Claire is a sophomore in high school, and my son Xander is in 7th grade. Time goes by fast when your kids are little, and no matter how many times you are told it will go by in a blink of an eye, you don’t believe it until they are suddenly in high school. When your kids are little, the days are long, but the years are short.

It took me about six years to get into a morning groove to get them to school. We’ve only been late a handful of times in the ten years I’ve been dropping them off, a feat I’m amazed at. That’s not to say that many of those early mornings weren’t complete and utter chaos. Both kids have gone to school without brushing their hair, not having breakfast, or forgetting their backpacks/homework/shoes. Yes, Xander once forgot to put on his shoes. Needless to say, that was one of the days we were late.

These days we are a well-oiled machine. Everyone is fed, has brushed their teeth and hair, and isn’t trying to set new fashion trends by wearing one black dress sock and one white ankle sock. We get out the door quickly, and I don’t remember being late in the past few years. I even manage to get a cup of coffee into my system, making everyone around me much happier as I won’t immediately tear their faces off if they ask me a question. Mornings in our household are a much more pleasant place.

That said, it usually falls apart after the 10 minutes it takes us to get to school. Want to know why?

The motherfucking car drop-off line.

I hate the drop-off line with the passion of 1000 burning suns. I despise getting in that line more than Spartans despised the Persians. It makes me want to punch someone in the face daily. Bringing my kids to school makes me look back at my own school bus ride on those evil yellow school buses with a sense of nostalgia. That’s saying a lot since my commute to school was an hour-long (yes, really), and it was Lord of the Flies every single day.

Those of you who have never experienced the joys of the phenomenon known as the school drop-off line should consider themselves extremely lucky. Avoid going with a friend to drop their kids off in the morning. It may prevent you from ever having children. It truly is that miserable of a daily experience. I'm sorry for my readers who experience this every single morning and understand that I feel your pain. If you are the one in a million person that doesn’t mind this daily endeavor, please don’t leave a comment. I would then be forced to hunt you down, call you a liar and possibly a lying asshole. I don’t want to do that as I love you all.

Parents, myself included, want the best for their kids. Every decent parent does whatever they can for them, whether spending an ungodly amount on school, being the bad guy or enforcing bedtime. We send our kids to an excellent private school. I can’t give my kids much as they get all their good traits from their mom. I can make damn sure my kids get the best education possible to be successful in life. I don’t care how much it costs. It’s worth every damn penny.

But making sure little Sally gets dropped off as close as possible to the front door every goddamn day is bullshit. Because it’s a private school, there is a constant sense of entitlement from the kids and parents. I like to think I don’t fall into this group, as I didn’t grow up in the world I now live in. I’m sure I do at times, but I’m human so forgive me. I try hard not to act like a privileged jerk and have beat my kids (not literally) over the head about not acting this way.

But back to the drop-off line. It is long no matter what school your kid goes to, and often it spills out into the street, annoying other drivers. A typical day involves at least one, sometimes more, of the following occurrences.

The line is held up because some jackass is too busy looking at their phone. Everyone thinks they are being so polite, not using their horn, waiting for Jenny’s mom or dad to glance up, give everyone a little wave, and then pull forward.
Fuck that.
I have no problem laying on the horn. No polite, quick honk, no waiting 20 car lengths before I get annoyed. Pay fucking attention. I want to get home, so I drink my coffee in peace.
Opening the back of the car so little Johnny can get his stuff out of the trunk. Are you serious? What are they moving in? How much stuff do they need to take to school? I don’t care if your kid plays the cello or brings in his homemade diorama for their science project. Park your car. You’ll save time because you won’t have to wait in the stupid line in the first place, and if you get out and help them, the entire process will go faster.
Giving your kid a pep talk/yell at them before they get out of the car. What, there wasn’t enough time while you were waiting in the endless line to scream at Susie for leaving her clothes on the floor? Time management people.
Waiting for their kid to get out of the car. No, you can’t watch the rest of your TV show on your Ipad. Why the hell would a kid take off their shoes? Do you really need to give your kid one last hug? You’ll see them in 6 hours and probably be annoyed with them within 5 minutes of picking them up. Stop, unlock the doors and tell them to get out. Now.
Stopping directly in front of the school entrances, so your kid doesn’t have to walk. My absolute favorite. Ten empty car lengths are ahead of you, but Prince Bobby shouldn’t have to walk that far on a perfect fall morning.
Pull forward, you massive jackass.
Teachers handle the car line, and dealing with 25 screaming kids has got to be a cakewalk compared to this. They have to smile and wave to the parent(s) while thinking, “You privileged fucker in your giant Escalade. I hate you and your kid.” Ok, that’s me, not them. But I’m sure it still bugs them.
Thinking it’s the Indy 500 after your kid finally gets out of the car. Hooray, precious Cindy has gotten out of the vehicle. But it’s not ok to whip you out of line and drive off at 60 mph because you’re late for work. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent 5 minutes talking out your window to the teacher about her failures as an educator because Cindy doesn’t have straight A’s. Dumbass.
I almost got into an actual fight with another parent once. The two cars ahead of me had all pulled forward to the end of the sidewalk. I thought about sending them a thank you note but didn’t know who they were. Our kids all got out quickly, and we all started to pull out. There were no cars in front of us, and the nearest car behind us was parked in front of the entrance. That parent had gotten out of the vehicle, probably helping their little snowflake with a tuba or something stupid like that. All of a sudden, this car whips around the corner. They slam on their brakes right before they take my front bumper off.
The driver gave me the stink eye like it was my fault. How dare I pull out when he was going so fast that you had to wonder if he was trying to make his car fly. Fuck you. He’s so close I can’t pull forward or back up without scraping his car. Does he move? Nope, he just continues to stare at me.
Oh, hell no.
I roll my window down, look right at this asswipe, and yell, “You got a fucking problem, asshole? Move your fucking car.” Yeah yeah, I know I shouldn’t swear with kids around. I’m working on my anger issues. He looked a little shocked but doesn’t move. I may not able able to drive the car, but I can open the door, which I do, full of rage and a desire to beat this guy to death.
At this point, teachers are moving quickly toward us, smiling but concerned. I know most of the teachers, and a couple of them are the parents of Xander’s two best friends. They know me and trust me enough to watch their kids when they have to work or have them over for sleepovers, but I must have looked insane at the moment. The guy in his BMW also must have seen it since he backed up, jumped the curb, and took off. I know my behavior was completely inappropriate, and even if the guy had hit my car, my actions would still be entirely in the wrong. Whatever. Fuck that guy.

Now, what the heck does any of this have to do with D&D?

If you’re stuck in the back of the marching order and are walking down a 5-foot wide corridor only to encounter a big, bad mind flayer, you may feel the same way as I do. Marching order is nowhere as important as it used to be and is almost an afterthought in today’s game. Our DM asks for marching order randomly, and when it does happen, we know something will be happening very soon. A majority of the time, we’ll be asked where we are in the marching order or where we are standing in the room as combat begins. We spend a fair amount of time adventuring outdoors, so it’s not a huge deal, but it becomes critical in a dark dungeon.

The first edition was all about dungeon diving and characters spent most of their time wandering around the corridors of an underground lair in search of shiny things and magical items. Take a look at this map here. Over half of the corridors are only 5 feet wide. Encounters aren’t limited to the larger areas either. A DM would constantly roll on a random encounter chart, and you had a good chance of running into anything from a rat to an owlbear. Marching order was critical to your success in such an encounter.

Back then there was no barbarian class, but a fighter could get pretty tanky, so they spent most of their time upfront. Some groups would want the thief, now known as the rogue, standing 1st in the marching order. The reason was twofold. They could scout ahead and find out that a hungry hook horror was roaming the halls, allowing you to backtrack to a larger space or avoid the conflict altogether. The second reason is that no one trusted those sneaky bastards, so you could keep an eye on them if they were in the front. Of course, if you did run into anything stronger than a single kobold, the thief was going to be in big trouble.

I’m not saying I have the perfect solution to the issue, but it should be taken seriously. Does the fighter always have to be in the front? Probably, but not always. Maybe the cleric should be right behind him so he can keep healing him? What about the poor wizard? Can he cast spells through the line of fellow party members? Is he smart enough not to cast a fireball and kill everyone? These are all valid questions you and your party need to consider before wandering down a random dungeon hallway.

Another takeaway from the dreaded carpool line is to be ready when it’s your turn. You get 4 hours once a week if you are lucky to play D&D. Don’t spend it looking at your phone, surfing the internet looking for D&D memes to amuse your fellow players. You didn’t wait all week to do the same crap you do all week long while avoiding work. Don’t be an asshole and not pay attention to the game. And don’t get caught watching baseball on your computer by Stephen. He’ll throw it in your face every session. (I was required to confess my sins to the world.)

It’s easy to be ready when you’re a 1st level wizard. You cast a cantrip followed by hiding. When you reach levels in the double digits, your choices can be overwhelming. You have to choose between all those beautiful spells, crying out to you to be cast. While the rogue is backstabbing the mean monster and the monk is punching the shit out of it, you can spend some time looking up the mental prison spell. You took it because it sounded cool, but I have no idea what it does, so a bit of research is in order. Just don’t go down the rabbit hole that is known as the internet, especially Reddit. Don’t get me wrong, I love the D&D community there, but you can get lost in it.

Have a couple of options ready. If you want to cast fireball (again), but everyone had bunched up before your turn rolled around, you may be a party of one if you decide fuck it, I’m going to cast it anyway. Communicate your plans to the rest of the group, but be ready for things to change. Combat is fluid, and it is incredible what can happen in a mere 6 seconds. If you pigeonhole yourself into one course of action, you’ll become frustrated you can’t do what you planned, slowing down the process even further.

It comes down to this. Be courteous of those around you, whether they be in the car behind you or the player sitting next to you. Don’t put your car in park. Be prepared to go when it’s your turn. Pay attention to what’s happening around you. Stop looking at your stupid phone before another parent (me) or the DM rips it from your hands.

Finally, teach little Jessica how to tuck and roll cause you're not stopping the damn car. She’ll be fine when you slow down, open the minivan door, and have her jump out.

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