You know your practice French oral exam isn't off too a good start when you walk in and your Dutch teacher says, "yeah, so, uh, vatz ze deel, alex?" Then the Irish grad student echoes, "Yeah, soatsthedeelalex" (you know, in that melodic Irish sort of way.)
I have something to admit. My name is Alex and I am a horrible French student. I don't deny it. I could blame that French teacher in High School we made cry, but that was just because she was fresh out of the peace core and not used to students who could look her in the eye, much less a bunch of rowdy rich kids from the suburbs. I didn't really make her cry. It mostly these two seniors who constantly showed up drunk to the class, since it was conveniently just after lunch. I think one of those two goes to A.A. now. The other works at Baskin Robbins.
No, I never studied. I don't study, now, unless there is a huge assignment due tomorrow or an exam in five hours. But, today, I made flash cards and planned ahead to visit that freaky Dutch lady during office hours. I suppose I have to since they're going all out during the strike and having class at some loser poetry cafe. Yeah, fuck that. I'm not going to learn any French at that place.
Sorry this wasn't funny in any way, shape, or form. I'm not going to apologize again.
p.s.-who wants to get together with me and pitch ideas back and forth. I have a great concept with breast cancer, but I can't seem to put it together.