Upon being asked about class last night, I responded as follows:
I walked in and everyone was feverishly studying their notes for the quiz. I shrugged.
“Did you study?” cried many voices. Or one. Who’s counting?
“Nope.” Another shrug.
*flabbergasted look, complete with open mouths*
*followed by nervous chuckles. Theirs, not mine*
“You didn’t study?!”
“Nope.” insert ubiquitous, and now overused, shrug.
“Omigod I studied all night. I can’t remember any of this stuff” said a student.
“I was too tired. I went to bed.” says I, managing not to physically shrug, but mentally doing it for consistency.
“I was too. I’ve been frantically studying today.” said another.
“I read through the study guide quickly” I replied, thinking about how I really spent most of my time talking to you. [you = classmate who asked the original question]
“I have to get an A” said another student, “because I want to get my doctorate.”
“I wanted to get mine too, but at this rate with stress and finances, I doubt I’ll do it.” I chuckled ruefully. Being full of rue and all, I needed to get rid of some of its excess.
*thinking for a moment, something I generally try to avoid*
“You know,” I went on to point out, “this is only a quiz, accounting for only one quarter of 5 points of our total overall grade, right?”
At which point Jesse [professor] walked in, smiled, and brought class to order.
Took the quiz. Sure I did alright. Then blew everyone away by actually paying attention, keeping on point most of the time.
Before the quiz actually began…
I tried to get Jesse to throw aside the lesson plan and have a cookout with us instead. He would, of course, cook. He grinned, said that he’s actually a good cook, and then told me that our grades would be affected. I said that it was okay, we’d grade his cooking ability and it would even out.
He made us take the quiz and stay in class. Butthead.