Scene: I am sitting at my desk, with the office door open. I am helping a student analyze his research results. The student leaves and I see a middle aged man in a black coat standing there. I assume he is a used textbook buyer.
Me: Can I help you?
Man: Hi, I’m from the FBI…
Me thinking: *yeah right, which one of my students put you up to this?”
Man shows me his badge.
Me thinking: Oh, crap!
Man: I need to talk to you…
Me thinking: It was Modern Theory Class! I’m supposed to teach Marx!
Man: … about one of your students…
Me thinking: Did one of them think I was serious and go shoot a member of the bourgeoisie?
Man: …who is applying to be an intern with us.
Me:* internal sigh of relief* Oh sure, come on in.
End scene.
Note to self: 1. Never let them see you sweat. 2. It’s not all about you.
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1 comments:
I enjoyed reading your internal thoughts! And I'm glad it didn't involved Marx, although he is every conservative mormon's nightmare.
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