I sit in the first class meeting of Advanced Composition, a sickening mixture of excitement and exhaustion blurring the edges of my vision, when a tall, bone thin man enters the room. His thin-framed, wire-rimmed glasses sit atop a somewhat bulbous, hooked nose. He has three patches of hair, centered around a bald spot; they hardly meet each other, save for a thin shading of charcoal grey hair to act as a common ground.
His pants are probably two inches too tight and three inches too short, and yet this seemed to fit him perfectly. When he speaks, his voice is scratchy, something akin to the way Matthew McConaughey speaks in his movies.
We spend thirty seconds too long on the pronunciation and origin of his name--the "c" in Mischler is silent and it is of German descent. Both sides of his family are German, he tells us, by coincidence and not purpose.
He very promptly informs us that the focus of this English class is Science and I can already tell that I will either strongly like or strongly dislike this class and this teacher.
As I leave the classroom, the fragments of notes float on the board, glaring at my fervent belief that I will not to write them down.
she bangs
10 years ago
