For my English major, I am being forced to take “Diverse Voices,” a 243-level class that is mostly filled with freshmen and sophomores. It comes down to me and maybe three people who actually read the assignments always raising our hands to answer questions (as opposed to abject silence) that seem ridiculously easy to me.
Anyway, there’s this one other girl who is frightening. Some people are just scary, you know? She comes in every morning, at 8:30 AM! in full makeup. We’re talking Tammy Fay makeup. She’s not an unattractive girl, but she wears so much makeup that I am truly frightened when I enter the harsh flourescent lights of the classroom and see her face. Plus she always shows up completely dressed to the nines. She always has some totally matched, perfect outfit on with heels and color appropriate jewely. For instance, if she is wearing a pink tube top (yes, you read that correctly) and black fitted pants, she will have black strappy stilettos on. Her hair, always in that half-up, half-down style, will have a perfectly corresponding pink ribbon and her toenails will also be the exact shade of pink. Her lipstick will be that shade of pink. She will have a knapsack (like an LL Bean one) in black, a black one shoulder-strap bookbag, and a pink and black purse. Sometimes she will also have some sort of plastic grocery bag filled with who knows what.
She always raises her hand. She always has some ridiculously redundant or pointless comment that adds nothing to the (already nonexistent) discussion. She makes the most obvious, dumb comments that I want to cry. Why, you ask? Because what would be a quick 30-second comment for anyone else is a ten-minute ordeal. She coughs. She clears her throat. She hems and haws and collects her thoughts (I use that word with caution). She gesticulates wildly with her hands the whole time. Then she begins the speech, still gesticulating with abandon, which everyone paying attention (alright, ME) has memorized by now. “I ummmmmm wanted to ahem ahem comment on the fact that ahem ahem ummm it seems to me that in theory, the best answer to that questions would be ummm ahem excuse me something along the lines of blah ahem blah ummm blah.” It is excruciating. It drives me MAD. I clench my fists in rage. I squeeze my eyes shut so tight it hurts. Ten minutes after her little coughing spree speech, she finally winds down and the teacher speaks exceptionally loudly (I kid you not!) so that people will resurface to consciousness.
That’s not all, of course. She has a very high-pitched, almost squeaky voice with peculiar intonations. For instance: “I ummmm WAAAANTed to ahem ahem KAAAAHmenT aaaahhnnn the FAAAACT that ahem ahem it SEEEEeeemmmssss to ME…” Gah!
She always does this at least three times a class.
It’s enough to make me get back under the covers sometimes and roll around for my 10:00 class. Sometimes I just can’t handle the thought of her speaking, and I go back to bed.
