At any rate, I did have a teacher of two that hated me, so today we’re going to talk about them. Mostly about Mr. Johnston.
Mr. Johnston was my seminary teacher.
Mr. Johnston didn’t like me because I didn’t like his interpretation of certain scriptures, and I told him so.
One day, I was told to stay after class so that he could talk to me. Except that he didn’t talk to me so much as told me I was going to hell.
Not only did he actually say that to a 14 year old girl, he took so long “speaking” to me, that I missed my bus home.
And I as stood there, wiping the tears off my face, I looked back at the seminary building and saw Mr. Johnston’s bike. Naturally, I borrowed it.
Oh the sweet, sweet justice.
I took the bike back the next day.
Shortly thereafter, I went to a new school.
The end.
