Be Crazy About…

i. picking a seat:

I forgot how much I enjoy watching people pick their seats on the first day of class, and today, after a year off of school, I was given the opportunity to see it again.  I arrived early, like I hopefully will every day now, because if I am late it will mean I missed my bus.  Seated eleven minutes prior to the instructor’s and 67 of his 70 students’ arrival, I saw person after person file in through the door.  Oddly enough, though there were two doors, everyone used only the east entrance… why and whether people will learn of the other door’s existence are questions that may be answered later.  But it wan’t what door they came through that I was interested in, it was what they did after the door shut behind them.

Each one looked around before taking a place.  During their visual survey of the room, they displayed their thoughts through their facial expressions.  These expressions informed me of the motivation that led them to the seat where they eventually sat down, and also gave hints into what kind of student they would be.  There are those who purposely picked the front seats, mostly because they’d rather have the back of their head stared at than look in the eye the students they just embarrassed with that excellent question and even better test grade.  In the back and far left and right are the timid, whose effort so far has gotten them by but they prefer not to be called on or involved in discussion.  Of course, there were those who sat near or next to friends and acquaintances from prior classes.  Their search for safety in the unfamiliar could suggest either an excellent study team or an insecure student who will rely on the support of his or her fellow student.  Either should yield a higher grade but not a curve-setting one, since their relationship should also act as a distraction.   Finally there are those who purposely place themselves in the speaker’s cone, that place where the instructor will “look for friendly eyes” when speaking.  These people are okay with the knowledge that the instructor will see them, and interact with them, that is what they want.  It is these people you must be scared of, they set the curve.

As for me, I chose my seat in my favorite area, just off center in the second row, near the center of the cone.  Fear me.

ii. smell of soap and perfumed poo:

Even a small school like Mesa Community College, which I attended for five semesters and two summer sessions, can feel like a labyrinth of buildings, passageways, and dead ends.  On the day I graduated MCC I knew the location of only nine restrooms, the ninth having been discovered while dressed in graduation robes at the line up.  I needed to pee before the three hour ceremony.  Someone from the nearest building’s academic department was nearby and suggested the seemingly hidden bathroom in that building.  Anyway, I was hoping things would be easier at ASU but no cigar, I am as lost as I was on day 1 at MCC, except this time lost in a bigger labyrinth with seemingly fewer restrooms.

After my 9AM class ended, my breakfast beverages declared freedom and my search for a restroom commenced.  I walked three hallways on two floors in the BA building before I considered my attempt futile and walked across the grass to the MU.  Inside the MU I was expecting a map, but the recent renovations required such resources to be temporarily taken down and obviously the work team was behind schedule.  I asked some other students just to learn that many were new freshmen and others were looking for a restroom as well.  Descending to the lower level and turning a corner put me in another hallway and with still no sign to guide my way.  I passed a soda machine, the third I had encountered in my hunt so far; ironically they water you down more than they provide a place to release, but I guess it makes sense since bathrooms don’t earn marketing dollars from Pepsi Co.  Beside the soda machine was another hallway, and a scented draft found my nose.  As if produced by a potpourri of soap suds and perfumed poo, the musty unpleasant smell that only a public restroom could create gave me hope that an end to my quest was near.  Down the hall, through two doors, and alas a urinal and a long “ahhhhh….”.

On the way out I popped $1.25 into the machine for a 20oz Mountain Dew.  Highway robbery, they were $1 at MCC.  Three hours later, I need to pee again.  And the search begins anew.

iii. hot chicks looking unattractive.

When at MCC the Kirk Student Center, the community college’s sorry attempt at a MU equivilent, was my between classes hangout.  It often frusturated me that every table was occupied by Magic: The Gathering card player dorks and all the comfortable chairs were occupied by people napping.  No different in the ASU MU–except their are more soft chairs here.  Seated next to me is a girl that if awake and sittup up would pass my hotness test but pretty fails it asleep.  Seriously, why would anyone, especially a hot chick, think it is wise to fall asleep in a chair in the student lounge?  There is nothing more unattractive than a hot chick asleep in chair with her mouth open and drool on her cheeck.  Well, except for your grandma naked.