Lunch break

The canteen is crowded again. It's always the same: I have to queue to get food; look for a table in this haystack and eat my hot meal cold. As soon as I sit in front of my colleague and start enjoying my tasteless meal, the reception calls me. I turn to the right where a girl in a green uniform is handing me the headset. On the phone, a client complains about his system not working. I haven't been trained yet and have no idea what she's talking about. Her high pitch voice is stressing me out but I can't do anything for her. Still, I decide to leave my meal, my colleague and the canteen and go back to my desk. Hopefully, I can figure out some bullshit to give her.
The sky is dark and it's pouring outside. People stand under the porch not wanting to move under the heavy rain. I have to go so I step under it. To my surprise, the rain is hardly touching me, I have quite a walk to my car but I stay dry.
The engine runs slowly as I'm driving through tiny streets. Some of them are so narrow; I wonder how can the car fit? I follow the cars in front of me, if they can do it, I can. The only difference between us is they probably know where they're going while I'm completely lost. Poor client's gonna wait a while...
I park in front of a little house. Some friends are there. The house's pretty much empty except for some paintings. A friend offers me to take one. It's a green& blue young man's face. The colour makes it inhuman and scary. I thank him and refuse.
I walk to my students. I'm a sport teacher (1). There's 10 of them, mainly girls. A black girl comes toward me and complains about the rain with a strong North London accent. "I can't stop the rain and we would train under a F*****G volcano eruption" I reply. (2) She's wearing a small short which looks more like some underwear, so in an amazingly diplomatic attempt to settle it all down I add: "If you were wearing proper clothes you wouldn't be cold" (3). At this moment, my obligations as a teacher come back to me and I apologies to the teenager. She rightly tells me to F*** o** and ignores my calls for forgiveness. Strangely, her friends take my defense, insisting that I'm a nice teacher  and they all like me (4) but she stays put.
So I decide to fold all the bags, ask the girls to take one each and walk to the director's office. They follow me while I explain how I will forward their complains to him. (5) I still apologies a few times to the girl who seems to be coming around it. The scenery’s very similar to the Pont du Gard, as if the river had dried up and you could walk under it... The office's somewhere under the arches but we never get to it.
I woke up (6).

(1) I should probably teach myself first...
(2) Yes, I did use to teach...
(3) Yes, seriously!
(4) Who doesn't?
(5) Pont du Gard, where I was a few weeks ago
(5) It's well know, teachers can't do anything about the weather but directors can.
(6) A shame for the end of this story, a good news for me :)