“You're wearing a suit, so I figure I can ask you a question.”
“I'm a math major.”
I look at his transcript.
“You got a D in pre-calc.”
“Yeah, but I'm good at math. I just do badly on the tests.”
“Calc has tests, too.”
(pause)
“Oh.”
“I'm going to change the world.”
“Okay.”
“So can I get into (closed class)?”
“What's your major?”
“First it was chemistry, then criminal justice, then I switched to childhood education, then psychology.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Blow less than the 40 thousand I blew at (other school).”
“I want to get into Comp II.”
“Did you take Comp 1?”
“Yeah, at my last college.”
“Do you have a transcript?”
“Huh?”
“Like a report card.”
“Oh. Don't you have it?”
We check online and print out an unofficial transcript.
“I don't see an English course.”
“Uh, it's that one.” (points)
“That says History.”
“Yeah, but I wrote a lot of papers.”
“It looks like you need to take Comp 1.”
“I took that last semester!”
“Yes, but you failed it.”
“But I took it!”
“I want a full-time schedule. Can we add some more?”
“Maybe. Do you have a job?”
“Yeah.”
“How many hours?”
“Full time, Monday to Friday.”
“Oh. Any other obligations?”
“I have two kids.”
“I'm thinking maybe we start you off part-time so you can get some momentum going. I'd rather you pass two classes than fail four.”
“Really?”
And, not to be outdone, three from my department chairs:
“We found the tuba!”
“The kiln exploded.”
“I lost an adjunct, but I got a replacement.”
“Good.”
“I called her on her cell. She took the call as she was being wheeled into surgery.”
(pause)
“She'll be here Tuesday.”
Steady...steady...
