The Legend of Wild Bill
Let me tell you about one of the most unforgettable TEFL teachers I've ever met while teaching abroad: Bill Tillerman, better known as "Wild Bill." Oddly enough, he was a man who didn't really act his age. He was in his early 60s but behaved more like a rebellious teenager.
He was one of those English teachers who somehow just ended up in Saudi Arabia, which seemed to attract all kinds of "bizarro" people. Teachers usually fit into one of three groups. There were young adventurers, older guys trying to recover and save money after a divorce, and then those who couldn't hold down a job anywhere else because of their odd personalities. Bill fit in that last group—if it weren't for teaching English, he probably wouldn't have had a job at all.
Life on the compound was tricky. Imagine working with the same people all day and then seeing them again after hours because everyone lived in the same place. You'd bump into your coworkers at the store, at the only restaurant called "The Oasis," or even at the gym. Privacy was hard to come by, and everyone tried to find quiet spots just to be alone sometimes.
Bill took this to the extreme. He avoided talking to people as much as he could. At work, he'd sit in the farthest office to stay away from everyone. During breaks, instead of venting about having to carpool to and from work, or someone forgetting their laundry in the machine at the communal laundry room, Bill would bury his nose in his favorite Louis L'Amour western books.
One week, things were extra quiet at the English school. We had no students because of some mix-up in the schedule, so we were told to "prepare" for the next cycle. The office was cramped, with desks squished into every corner because the good offices were saved for the Saudi commanders. It was so tight that getting to your chair was like an obstacle course.
Seeing this as a chance to read in peace, Bill set himself up in one of the empty offices far away from everyone else. He didn't tell anyone—because why start now?—and he hid away, losing himself in the dusty trails of the Old West.
The day went on with not much getting done. By 2:30 p.m., which was quitting time, groups of teachers—usually three or four who shared a car—left to go back to the compound. But Bill was so into his book that he didn't notice the time or the fact that everyone was leaving.
Fast forward to 6 p.m. There was a loud knock on my door. It was Mike O'Mailer, another teacher, and he looked both shocked and amused.
"You won't believe what just happened," Mike said, eyes wide.
Apparently, just a few minutes earlier, there was a furious banging on Mike's door. When he opened it, there was Bill, his face bright red, and veins bulging at his temples.
"Who am I?!" Bill shouted.
"Who am I?!" he yelled again, even angrier.
Mike blinked. "Uh, you're Bill Tillerman."
"No! Who am I?!" Bill roared.
Mike, confused and slightly entertained, tried again. "You're Bill..."
Bill cut him off, his voice even louder. "No, you idiot! I'm the someone you left on the f***ing base!"
Suddenly, it all made sense—well, as much sense as anything involving Wild Bill ever did. In his quest for quiet, Bill had forgotten to tell his carpool that he'd be staying in a different office. He had no idea that everyone else had left hours ago. When he finally came out of his hiding spot, the whole place was empty.
With no one around to give him a ride, Bill had to walk the two miles to the front gate in the blazing sun. From there, he got in touch with the compound manager, who arranged a ride back. The whole time, Bill was fuming, feeling like everyone had done him wrong.
After yelling at Mike, Bill turned and stomped back to his room, leaving Mike standing there, totally confused.
By the next morning, everyone on the compound was talking about what had happened to Bill. The story spread like wildfire. It wasn't long before "Wild Bill" became a legend.
This wasn't the only story that earned Bill his nickname. There was also the time he almost fought someone over a parking spot, and another time when he got super mad about people using "his" washing machine.
So here's to Wild Bill. I hope he finally found the peace and quiet he was looking for. If he'd just let us in, we probably would've enjoyed hanging out with him and maybe even seen the good side he kept hidden away.