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I need to talk to you after class

Submitted by Murphy1844 at 2011-02-06 06:05:19 EST
Rating: 1.0 on 9 ratings (9 reviews) (Review this item) (V)

He said that to me. Can you believe it?


I sat in the back trying to manage my anxiety. I like the subject... technical report writing, and I fucking LOVE the professor, but I usually sit in the back. The subject can be good, the professor stellar, but I sit in the back because I just don't want to talk to people. Especially these guys:

1. The Talker: Not usually bright, and usually insecure. This person yaps all god damned class long, staring directly at the professor for some reason. He doesn't know his audience. He's either smarter than everyone else or knows that he's not. Either way, just shut your fucking mouth. We didn't pay to hear an undergraduate's commentary.

2. The Semi-Good-Looking Chick: Aside from The Talker, this is the type I hate the most. She's usually single... wait, no she's not. She's usually dating someone already but constantly on the look-out for someone better, only acting like she's single. She's a typical cunt. Or bitch. Or slut. You decide. She's the one with the dreamy look and the folded back-of-her-palm-resting-under-her chin type, staring seductively at the professor all the time for no good reason other than to well you know (and get an A)... that one. Side note--savvy, ugly, fat, and old professors love this chick.

3. The guy sitting in the back, remembering to breathe slowly, shoulder-up tense, but still someone active in the class and maybe smart: Well he's basically trying to get an A to up his shitty GPA, thinking about having a beer after class, thinking about sex all the time, unusually bored and anti-social... and something itches. What is that?

May I direct your attention (this is me, the author talking) to this bit-- my hero was asked this question once. Since I'm too anal for my own good (hehe), I have to present this exactly how it was stated and include a reference at the end. Watch:

Interviewer: <I'll paraphrase since her question was unlettered. "What advise would you give to people who want to be writers?">

Hero: "Well the only ones I would think would be interested in hearing from me are those who have... writing in mind as a career. I would expect and I do- I do draw students sometimes to my class in New York for that reason and yes I do have, advise that may sound incredibly totalogical but isn't: Ah you should first ask yourself: If you really have to write." (later) "Has it ever occurred to you that you have no choice but to write. Uh there's always someone (when I say this in a room full of students) who looks at me suddenly as if *how did you know that* and that's how I do know." (and more).

Back to the dreamy chick earlier... the one with the seductive look. She got an A in the class because she did outstanding work and worked hard. I judged her prematurely. I admit my mistake.

The Talker got a C.

And before grades were dished out, and after class tonight... the professor looked at the guy in the back and said, "I need to talk to you after class." The class went "ooo" in a hushed and polite sort of college way, not like "OOOOO" from high-school or something. The guy in the back nodded.

The rest of the class walked toward the exit and some of them looked back to see what this was all about. The professor and the guy in the back held off talking until the curious students were out of earshot. Then went the professor. He said,

"It's it, isn't it? It's there huh?" The student said nothing... he just nodded his head up and down like this was a bad thing. The professor continued. He said, "mmmmfph." Then he pat the kid on the shoulder and went back toward his classroom. He looked back though. The kid said,

"Thanks." There were the beginnings of tears in his eyes. They weren't dripping down and splattering anywhere yet... they were the beginnings-- that sort of shiny, wet look. What's that damn itch and how can I make it go away? The student had no idea what to do.

Neither did the professor.

Neither does anybody.


Thanks for reading,


Review This Item




Submitted by loki at 2011-02-09 20:50:00 EST (#)
Rating: 2

This makes me feel like that kid who doesn't get it but laughs because everyone else is.

all poetry is about death
I learnt that in skool

Submitted by Psygns_of_the_Tymes at 2011-02-07 03:41:27 EST (#)
Rating: 0

Submitted by skrapmetal (user info) at 2011-02-06 12:28:51 GMT (#)
Ranking: 0

Is it? Tough to tell.

Submitted by willartstorg at 2011-02-07 01:18:18 EST (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by ridiculous (user info) at 2011-02-07 01:02:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

I hate being left with more questions than answers...

Tough shit. Take your obese ass back to Alaska.

Submitted by ridiculous at 2011-02-07 01:02:40 EST (#)
Rating: 2

I hate being left with more questions than answers...


Submitted by Wildman at 2011-02-06 22:31:46 EST (#)
Rating: 2

Boom! Shaka laka laka

Boom! Shaka laka laka

Submitted by willartstorg at 2011-02-06 19:45:37 EST (#)
Rating: 2

Murph has the crotch measles.

Submitted by orphelia at 2011-02-06 15:19:49 EST (#)
Rating: 0

Submitted by Poots at 2011-02-06 08:35:09 EST (#)
Rating: 0

duh duh duh


duh duh duh


*chanting of some kind*

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee weeeeeeeeeeee hah

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee hee ha

dulluh dulluh dun dun


Submitted by skrapmetal at 2011-02-06 07:28:51 EST (#)
Rating: 0

Is it? Tough to tell.

I couldn't very well chop your hand off and bring it to the store,
could I?

-- Homer Simpson
Life on the Fast Lane