Mike: What are you doing up so early?
Frankie: I never came to bed. I was too worked up, so I made a few phone calls, I organized the junk drawer... And then I fired off an e-mail to the principal about Ms. Rinsky.
Mike: You did what now?
Frankie: Don't worry. It's good. You wanna hear it? I made some very good points. "Dear Principal Larimer, I'm writing to bring to your attention an issue of concern for me as a parent." Huh? "It regards one of your teachers, Ms. Rinsky. I have tried repeatedly to have an open dialogue with her about my son's education, but she has been completely uncaring and dismissive. Today, more than ever, don't we need teachers who are caring and missive?" Okay, that might not be the right word, but wait. It gets better. Okay. "Her teaching skills in math don't add up." [slight chuckle] "Maybe 'cause when she was born the numbers only went up to ten."
Mike: Oh.
Frankie: I don't remember writing that, but... "If you want to schedule a parent-teacher conference with her, good luck. Your best bet is scheduling it with the bartender at Beefsteak Charlie's. Glug, glug." Uh-oh. "Is this the kind of teacher you want at your school... one who instead of nurturing our children, uses mind games and intimidation? She would've made a fine... Nazi. Maybe she was. What do we really know about her?" Oh, my God!