A Cheap Tutor

I figured that since one of the few things that I'm good at is school, I might as well try to make some money by helping others with their own education. In order to do so I've been putting up Craigslist posts advertising myself as an "Experienced and Reliable Tutor," neither of which is true. Although tutoring isn't the most exciting or memorable job, I decided that it would be a good way to get some cash in my pocket for the summer essentials: beer, food, liquor, pot, and maybe even a new pair of new? We'll see.
Recently I had a kid Derek call me while I was out with Harrison. We were killing time before a Wednesday night Highland Park/Eagle Rock party and we were under the influence early. Harrison hadn't eaten so the two of us walked to a McDonald's on north Figueroa. The kid called as Harrison was ordering so I stepped out in order to better hear him, trying my best to sound sober. Derek said that he needed help with his Algebra I studying, finals were coming and he was apparently way behind. He told me that he lives in Huntington Park, but that he goes to high school in downtown LA. In the background I could hear his mom speaking to him in Spanish, instructing the nervous kid about which questions to ask. Thankfully my inability to speak the language prevented me from speaking to his mom directly; good news while intoxicated, and probably the only time that I've been glad that my parents never taught me Spanish. Anyways, I'm not sure if it was because of my mental state at the time, or my desire to help unprivileged youth, but when asked about how much I would charge him I said $10/hour. I think it was this incredibly low price that got them most excited-- most tutors charge anywhere between $20-$35/hour. Like I said, all I aim to do is make enough money to have spending cash this summer, I'm not trying to make a fortune and if sitting down with a kid for a couple hours helps me achieve this, then fuck it.
The next morning Derek called me again and we arranged to meet at a park by his house Friday after school. This time I told him that I would charge $10/hour if he got a ride to Alhambra, or $13/hour if I had to drive to Huntington Park/HP/the hood, his mother opted for the latter.
I got to the park at 2:00, right on time. Found a table under a tree and called the kid's cellphone, no answer. Next, I called his house and he answered. In mumbled English he explained that he was running late and that he would be there soon. I hung up the phone, pulled out a book of short stories by Bukowski and proceeded to read under the tree for the next half an hour.
Derek and his mother arrived at 2:30 and I guess that I must stand out in the hood because they automatically knew which table to come to. I shook the kid's hand (a weak shaker) and made the necessary introductory small talk. His mother sat at the table with us and I asked Derek to pull out his Algebra. He pulled out a yellow folder full of wrinkled math worksheets and found the one that he was having most trouble with: Chapter 8- The Quadratic Equation. In time the nervous kid that I first spoke to on the phone explained that this was his second time taking Algebra I. He attributed his previous failure to 'test anxiety' and I responded by telling him that he should probably just study harder, earlier, and longer. He also said some stuff about not having any friends and wanting to drive out to Alhambra next time solely for the purpose of getting out of the hood. Poor kid.
I tried my best to dig out my prior knowledge of Chapter 8, and despite not having done this shit since middle school, I felt that I did a good job of clarifying his questions. I might have bullshitted some of my advice, but he didn't seem to notice, neither did his mom. I walked him through some more worksheet review questions, made some sample questions, had him do those, and before I knew it ninety minutes had passed. It was 4:00 and since Derek's mother assumed that I would charge them for the half an hour that they were late, she started to pack up his things. I explained that I wouldn't charge them for those first thirty minutes, that my book had provided enough entertainment, and that we could go until 4:30 for a total of two hours of actual tutoring. His mom liked this and we kept on working.
The most interesting thing that happened over those two hours had nothing to do with tutoring. While explaining to Derek how to plot a line I felt something fall on my shoulder from the tree above. I looked up just in time to see a predator bird fly away, maybe an eagle or a hawk, I don't know birds. I looked down and saw another bird, except this one was bloodied and dead. For some reason the predator bird decided to drop its leftovers on me, I guess I must stand out to the birds as well.
We stopped working a little passed 4:35 and set up another time to meet as he packed up his crumpled papers. His mom seemed really pleased with everything, she sent me off with $30 (three fives and fifteen ones) and a yellow Powerade. She also told me that she would recommend me to other parents, maybe I'll charge them more. $30 for two and a half hours seemed good enough to me. I left the park, picked up my bike from the repair shop on Cesar Chavez, paid the guy $15 (in ones), and still had enough money for some cheap beer and food later that night. Moral of the story: tutoring pays, keep it coming.