By POOJA HIREMATH, ’13

Students have no respect for us. We, the protectors of their prized possessions, get books thrown into us haphazardly and act as dumping grounds for Mom’s two week-old turkey sandwiches. How dare they treat us like that?

At least this year, I can actually see my client. She has put up a mirror, and whenever my door is open, I can see a shock of curly hair falling into her hazel eyes. Through the mirror, I’ve noticed that my client is messy, but disorganization seems to suit her. While I still can’t remember where anything is even after spending hours staring at her possessions, she can take out a binder in three seconds flat.

Mornings are the best time of day — before the students arrive, of course. Once the doors swing open, however, I must brace myself for the onslaught of door-slamming chaos. My owner, in particular, has a horrible penchant for lateness. On such days, she brutally yanks me open, throws her backpack inside, and slams the door. Rude. Worst still are days when she does come to school on time. Humans tend to travel in hoards, so she and her gaggle of gossiping girls lean against my door.

The humans may not respect us, but they certainly make life a little less mundane. Locker number 247 is working on a PowerPoint about improving locker-student relations. I’m going to bring this up at the next board meeting.