An unsuspecting fifteen year-old gets hit with college life. Hilarity ensues.

As most of you in the U.S. know, today was president’s day. This in itself is not particularly exciting for students at my podunk community college, since we don’t get the day off, and the only free food meant that you had to listen to the president of our college speak.

So, after my morning English class, I went over to the student center like I always do, didn’t see anyone I knew (except that one girl I talked to for about ten minutes last week, I think she’s new this semester, but she’s already fallen in with the skater division of the popular crowd, and those aren’t exactly the kind of people I hang out with), an sat down in the Texas room (See? We’re so podunk we have a room named after our state. Ever heard of an Ohio room? I don’t think so. That’s a right reserved especially for the two largest states, Alaska and Texas). I contemplated writing a blog post, since I can’t seem to concentrate enough to study while I’m there, but alas, I didn’t want to.

After three minutes or so, that friendly student activities girl walks in and asks me and that other guy on his laptop if we’re here for a talk with the president. We both look around, then nod noncommittally, since it’s not worth getting up, and saying no and walking off would be awkward.

I swear, we were the only two people there that weren’t either faculty/student activities or in this “Learning Strategies” (Read: People who follow every recommendation of their advisors (who really push for you to take it when you enroll) and those dumb idiots that get a placement score so low that it’s required, neither of which are me) class that walks in (single-file, I don’t think they were holding hands, though) about five minutes before the president shows up.

Anyways, he (the President) walks in two minutes late (I checked), and sits down as soon as he walks in. Now, I don’t know about you, but aren’t these people supposed to be able to introduce themselves? Not this guy, I guess.

So, the friendly student activities girl introduces him, and stands up and walks to the front of the room. This is when I realize that I’m starving, and my stomach is going to wake up that snoring guy in the fourth row if I can’t get some food. There was food, by the way, set up on little platters and everything on the side of the room. Yet, it feels weird to get up and eat as soon as this guy walks in (I’m sure he’s a very nice man, and he lives just up the street from me, but this was just poorly planned, so I’m poking fun at him a little). The friendly student activities girl had said we were free to get up and eat (one sandwich only, please) as soon as they finished bringing in the food, and I see I could’ve/should’ve/would’ve done that before he walked in, but nobody was sure that they were done bringing in the food just yet (It was just a pile of tiny sandwiches and a fruit plate, after all. Doesn’t the president get something a little fancier?). Alas, they were done, and I really should have gotten food then.

But, back to the president. He says his name, and that one year they had started doing this forum with the president, and they had done it ever since. Now, we were all expecting him to talk a little, give us a proper speech before he goes question-answering, but no. Right from the start he wants to answer our questions.

Ha.

Ha ha.

You really expect a class of suck-ups and idiot college students (and us two innocent standbys) to have a plethora of questions for this guy?

No. I didn’t either.

So, Mr. President starts asking us questions, mainly why we decided to come to this podunk college.  The answers were “It’s close.” “It’s cheap.” and, “To become a nurse. (Since we do he a nursing school).”

After the faculty sees that he’s floundering in the dust here, the Learning Strategies asks what he does in his day-to-day work (A question that was halfway interesting). His answer was “I mostly do Public Relations, or as I like to call it, Bringing Information to the Public.”

He tells us that this mostly involves going to fancy dinner parties and Boy Scout club meetings. I don’t know about you, but I imagined that there would be a little more paperwork involved (He did say that he has to go to TXDot meetings about stop-light timing, though). (Also, if you’re wondering about my cat, she’s still trying to rip her stitches out, and her food bowl is empty.) (Not any more. I filled it.)

You would think, since questions seem to be so sparse, that he would try to draw each answer out longer, as to possibly raise more questions, or at least fill the time. But no, he seems to cut the answers rather short, and the awkward silence between questions continues to stretch. There are a few more asked by faculty, ringing of that tone your third-grade teachers had when they asked questions to class guests. Those kind of questions that really make it obvious that the questioner already knows what the answer is.

At this point I’m really really hungry, so I give in to my primal instincts and daintily filled my red paper plate (left over from the Valentines Day event, no doubt) with strawberries and pineapple.  I feel really awkward, because I’m the first person to get food, and the mood doesn’t seem like an “eat” mood, but I’m really hungry, if you have yet to notice. There were a few more questions that I didn’t listen to as I wolfed down my cantaloupe, and then I got to feel even more awkward as I had to walk out for my ride home.

Oh well, sometimes things just suck. At least Mr. President has that dinner tomorrow night to cheer him up.

Jesus, I really can get writing if I want to, can’t I? It’s one of those things where I have to tell a story in its entirety, I suppose.

Please excuse my for any typos, I’m usually impeccable, but I don’t feel like re-reading that, ’cause my kitty-watching shift is over.

Good night, all.