So I’m two classes down. The second class, taught by Prof D., is the same professor — the chair of the department, actually — who taught my Chaucer class last semester. Anyway, probably a fourth of this class (History of the English language) were students who were also in Chaucer. So when class got out a little early, I wound up talking with T. (who sat in front of me in Chaucer) and two other students from the class. One of those students is a guy I’m going to call Cowboy, and I’m going to call him that more for his choice in coat and headgear styles than for any possible Brokeback reference I could make.
So, anyway, Cowboy is not only in my HEL class (which is an appropriate abbreviation since the class will most certainly be HELlish) but in my Ancient Myth course as well. The Myth course is in the ugliest, most decrepid lecture hall in Linthicum Hall (not saying much, there’s only two). The chairs are molded plastic, bright yellow and orange, the stairs are weird and awkward, and the lighting doesn’t work. Best laugh of the day? Dr. B, who said, “You will be in much nicer lecture halls than this.” In all of my long college career, I’ve had four classes in lecture halls, and all of them have been, you guessed it, in the same damn lecture hall: the ugly one! So, no, Doc B., I won’t be (although it turns out that all the previous Myth classes have been in LI-200, and that one is at the very least color coordinated).
So after T. and her friend walk away, Cowboy and I start talking about Myth. He mentions he might drop it, and then we start talking about a girl who sits in the very front row of the class. I’m trying to figure out when it was I realized I loathed her, and then it occured to me that when she asked, quite seriously, “Is it okay to use ‘net speak’ on our responses?” was the moment when I felt a deep and barely quenchable desire to drag her to the top of the Stephen’s Hall clocktower and drop kick her onto York Road. It’s a fucking English class, why not ask if you can do your responses in German?! Or Klingon!
On the plus side, Dr. B, who either was clueless about ‘net speak’ or just trying to deflect her own desire to drag a certain student to the top of the Stephen’s Hall clocktower and drop kick her onto York Road, tried to make a joke, then deny any knowledge of net-speak, then described a trip to Greece where her husband almost got into fisticuffs after proclaiming about a ruin, “Who gives a shit about the Romans?”, to which another tourist rounded on him and said, “I’m a Latinist! I do!” And people say academics aren’t violent.
In any case, after Cowboy explained he sometimes felt bad about judging people (“Net Speak Girl” had to say something every time Dr. B did, including an attempt at explaining the Johnny Appleseed Folklore, which, apparently, has to do with getting drunk, which was something I felt I was desperately in need of after listening to her go on and on and on), I agreed with that philosophy, and then explained that my loathing for her was entirely directed at her Net Speak question, at which point he frowned and said, “I thought she was joking.”
And now that I had that thought in my mind — was she? I doubt it — I felt very bad for desiring to drag her to the top of the Stephen’s Hall clocktower and drop kick her onto York Road. Of course, I would never do something like that. Life in jail isn’t worth it over a declining use of the English language (which, admittedly, I do myself butcher frequently).