Triumphant Return
I realize that it has been a very long time since I've made any sort of meaningful entry. Rather than strain to remember what has happened between my last entry and this one (Reader's Digest: grandpa died, started dating Kaitlyn, went with band to Orlando, started new semester), I'll settle with writing about the last week...I've realized that there are some events that happened before this week that I think are funny and want to write about. Since that's the case, I'm going to include them anyway... Actually, scratch that. Let's make this a satirical story based off the past couple weeks. That means it can be the week how I wish it would have happened...
The week should begin on the bus - though this actually happened a few weeks ago, we are going to pretend that it happened this week. I was coming home from an unsuccessful shopping trip with my room mate Jeff and running behind to meet my girlfriend Kaitlyn for a hockey game. The bus' route involves a long stop at the mall before continuing on toward downtown Lansing with a brief stop by the campus of MSU. I was impatient, irritated, and looking for anything to get my mind off how much I didn't want to be on that damn bus. I then took notice of the gentleman that sat directly across from me. He decided to strike up a conversation with the bus driver. When this older gentleman spoke, it sounded like he had received 4 novicane injections to the tongue. "So, they got a House ah' pancaksh up there?!" he shouted. "I love pancaksh. Wherever they sherve pancaksh, you'll find me!" This conversation went on for about 15 minutes. When we finally reached the International House of Pancakes, my source of entertainment exited the bus. I felt sad, fearing that the rest of the bus ride would be dull and bland, as all rides on CATA buses are. Not so. What I heard next was sweet music to my ears.
"I FORGOT TO PICK UP MY BUS PASS ON FRIDAY, BUT I WILL COME FRIDAY...COME FRIDAY...COME FRIDAY..." He wore a floppy stocking cap, large glasses, and even larger, unlatched snow boots. I knew in an instant that this man would be comic gold. He stumbled to his seat and began mumbling things that I couldn't quite understand. Finally, just as I was about to give myself up to depression, he spoke again. "THE STREET CARS ARE GOOD FOR FARMING...FOR FARMING...FOR FARMING...WHALES." Farming whales. I had never considered such a thing, but I knew instantly that this man posessed a knowledge that I couldn't comprehend. I pondered his words by covering with my mouth with my hand and trying my best not to laugh. We got off the bus, but I never forgot my dear friend.
The week came, and it was business as usual. I was contemplating the various ways to kill the fraternity jocks sitting behind me in my ISP class when the professor announced that there would be an attendance quiz. I never get too nervous about these quizzes, because I almost always pay attention in lecture. As I was filling my scantron sheet out, I heard one of the guys behind me whisper to the other "The guy in front of me always gets perfect scores on these things. I always copy off him. It's cool bro, I'll just copy off him and you copy off me." There were several "Fuck yeah's" and "Thats awesome, bro's" as I contemplated my next move. I then proceeded to bubble in each question incorrectly. I gave plenty of time for my friend and his friends to copy my answers, then I started acting like I was getting ready to leave. They got up and started walking towards the professor to hand in their quizzes. Just as they were reaching out to give them their papers, I mumbled - just loud enough for them to hear - "Oh shit!" and started erasing all of my answers. They saw this, and the look of terror on their faces was priceless. I'd like to think that I taught them a lesson, but the realist in me knows that I'm going to have to switch seats for our next lecture.
My week was consumed mostly with writing a midterm essay for my political science class. It was based on the question "What is political power?" and was limited to the material that we read in class - namely Plato, Aristotle, Socrates, and other "great thinkers." For the past several weeks, I've wanted to write a paper based on a quote by a Christian theologian of the Middle Ages: "All you need to know about Aristotle is that he is in hell." Of course, this would earn me a failing grade. I wrote the paper on the professor's terms, but managed to reference an episode of "Hogan's Heroes" as well as quote a Garth Brooks song. I felt satisfied, but it likely goes without saying that my professor will not.
I ended the week with a celebratory shopping trip with Kaitlyn. We sat on the bus, making our way back to campus, when we stopped at a familiar stop. I wasn't paying much attention - and by that, I mean I was thinking about Star Wars - when I felt a pair of large boots step on not one, but both of my toes. I looked up to see my dear Whale farmer. I was delighted to see him. The bus was packed, so he was forced to share a grip bar with a Latino and an Asian girl. Not fooled by their clever disguises, he looked them both in the eye and boldly declared "You're Polish!" Clearly, the jig was up! As we approached campus, he assured the bus "NO HARM INTENDED." He repeated "Intended" several times so that we could ponder the true depth and meaning of his message. As I exited the bus, I gave him a slight nod. No words were exchanged. No words needed to be exchanged. I left the bus knowing that I would see my dear friend again, and it brought peace to my heart.
The week should begin on the bus - though this actually happened a few weeks ago, we are going to pretend that it happened this week. I was coming home from an unsuccessful shopping trip with my room mate Jeff and running behind to meet my girlfriend Kaitlyn for a hockey game. The bus' route involves a long stop at the mall before continuing on toward downtown Lansing with a brief stop by the campus of MSU. I was impatient, irritated, and looking for anything to get my mind off how much I didn't want to be on that damn bus. I then took notice of the gentleman that sat directly across from me. He decided to strike up a conversation with the bus driver. When this older gentleman spoke, it sounded like he had received 4 novicane injections to the tongue. "So, they got a House ah' pancaksh up there?!" he shouted. "I love pancaksh. Wherever they sherve pancaksh, you'll find me!" This conversation went on for about 15 minutes. When we finally reached the International House of Pancakes, my source of entertainment exited the bus. I felt sad, fearing that the rest of the bus ride would be dull and bland, as all rides on CATA buses are. Not so. What I heard next was sweet music to my ears.
"I FORGOT TO PICK UP MY BUS PASS ON FRIDAY, BUT I WILL COME FRIDAY...COME FRIDAY...COME FRIDAY..." He wore a floppy stocking cap, large glasses, and even larger, unlatched snow boots. I knew in an instant that this man would be comic gold. He stumbled to his seat and began mumbling things that I couldn't quite understand. Finally, just as I was about to give myself up to depression, he spoke again. "THE STREET CARS ARE GOOD FOR FARMING...FOR FARMING...FOR FARMING...WHALES." Farming whales. I had never considered such a thing, but I knew instantly that this man posessed a knowledge that I couldn't comprehend. I pondered his words by covering with my mouth with my hand and trying my best not to laugh. We got off the bus, but I never forgot my dear friend.
The week came, and it was business as usual. I was contemplating the various ways to kill the fraternity jocks sitting behind me in my ISP class when the professor announced that there would be an attendance quiz. I never get too nervous about these quizzes, because I almost always pay attention in lecture. As I was filling my scantron sheet out, I heard one of the guys behind me whisper to the other "The guy in front of me always gets perfect scores on these things. I always copy off him. It's cool bro, I'll just copy off him and you copy off me." There were several "Fuck yeah's" and "Thats awesome, bro's" as I contemplated my next move. I then proceeded to bubble in each question incorrectly. I gave plenty of time for my friend and his friends to copy my answers, then I started acting like I was getting ready to leave. They got up and started walking towards the professor to hand in their quizzes. Just as they were reaching out to give them their papers, I mumbled - just loud enough for them to hear - "Oh shit!" and started erasing all of my answers. They saw this, and the look of terror on their faces was priceless. I'd like to think that I taught them a lesson, but the realist in me knows that I'm going to have to switch seats for our next lecture.
My week was consumed mostly with writing a midterm essay for my political science class. It was based on the question "What is political power?" and was limited to the material that we read in class - namely Plato, Aristotle, Socrates, and other "great thinkers." For the past several weeks, I've wanted to write a paper based on a quote by a Christian theologian of the Middle Ages: "All you need to know about Aristotle is that he is in hell." Of course, this would earn me a failing grade. I wrote the paper on the professor's terms, but managed to reference an episode of "Hogan's Heroes" as well as quote a Garth Brooks song. I felt satisfied, but it likely goes without saying that my professor will not.
I ended the week with a celebratory shopping trip with Kaitlyn. We sat on the bus, making our way back to campus, when we stopped at a familiar stop. I wasn't paying much attention - and by that, I mean I was thinking about Star Wars - when I felt a pair of large boots step on not one, but both of my toes. I looked up to see my dear Whale farmer. I was delighted to see him. The bus was packed, so he was forced to share a grip bar with a Latino and an Asian girl. Not fooled by their clever disguises, he looked them both in the eye and boldly declared "You're Polish!" Clearly, the jig was up! As we approached campus, he assured the bus "NO HARM INTENDED." He repeated "Intended" several times so that we could ponder the true depth and meaning of his message. As I exited the bus, I gave him a slight nod. No words were exchanged. No words needed to be exchanged. I left the bus knowing that I would see my dear friend again, and it brought peace to my heart.