The professor is a patient person.
Usually.
Sometimes, I’m not, and that’s when I riot. #riotingisfun
But, anyways and some, I pushed the elevator button, because I had to go up, after all.
Just up a floor, mind.
And I had to get there within three minutes. Not a problem.
Sadly, that’s when it all went south, like a buffalo running down a hill who loses control and starts to tumble.
You see, that’s when the hallway became packed with so many people, I feared–the sudden–for my oxygen supply.
Then there was a ding, and the elevator opened.
It was going down, not up.
“Dadblameit!” I cussed.
“That’s not going to help anything,” a girl next to me, who was also waiting, said.
“What’s not?”
“Cursing. It’s not how you should live your life.”
“But you’re as wrong as wrong can get, because I’m always right. It definitely helps. After all, Mark Twain and John Wayne said it does, and they can’t possibly be wrong.”
She raised an eyebrow.
The elevator came again.
And success!
It was going up.
But, rats and a heifer, there was no room.
That’s when the professor glanced at his watch.
Just thirty seconds now.
I ran to the stairs.
And wonders of wonders, can you believe when I arrived at the correct floor, the door to access that floor was handle-less?! No handle. No way to get it.
What made it even worse was the fact that I could see the place where I needed to be through the window.
The professor just couldn’t get there.
So…I rioted.
The professor busted down the door with inhuman strength, charged into the nearest room, grabbed the nearest employee, and dragged him back to the door.
“What is wrong with your building, hmm, dadblameit?! Elevator service is awfully awful and there’s no handles on your doors! What is this? A giggle-joke?!”
“I’ll fix it right away, sir!” the fellow said nervously as he shook brutally.
“You better,” I said, relaxing. “Now you’ve gone and made me late.”
“I’ll make it up to you!” He was on his knees know, begging. “Please don’t hurt me!”
The professor raised an eyebrow. “A free lunch? That’s what I require.”
“Yes!! You got it!”
Double-dadblameit. That sounded so good, too.
That’s how I did it in my mind, see.
In reality, I stood there, staring through the door for a good ten minutes, before I decided to try to find another way in.
The professor was late, and there was nothing a soul, or ghost, could do about it.
Well Professor,
If you had just walked up one flight of stairs, all of this nonsense could have been avoided. :)
Nancy
Well obviously I’m at the tail end of this chain. That’s ok though . I imagine you are late because you are studying into the wee hours of morning and overslept. Use this.
At least you got a free lunch. Whenever I riot, I just get arrested. Next time I riot, will you come and bust down the door to my jail cell?
Yes, I will! As long you’re rioting for a good reason. Like for war or because someone was vicious or something like that.
Why do people who are running late blame everybody and everything except themselves? Yes, I know, I’ve done it as well, but it’s not a pleasing quality. Grumbling and complaining when what you should have done is leave fifteen minutes earlier so you’d have time to arrive on time. Well, leave it to some strange girl to criticize you for venting. But you know what, I’m inclined to agree with John Wayne here — and might I add, You can’t fix stupid?!?!
Because it’s never my fault, you know, because the professor is quite fault-less, which is a thing–a rare thing–but a thing nonetheless. You should try it. It’s rather fun, you know.
I’d love being fault-less, sir. Can I just claim I am without having to prove it or anything?
Of course. And I believe it, the sudden, you know.
Ooh, you’re in definite need of a woosah moment aren’t you? – Am I going to have to put you in one of my friendship groups with the kids and teach you calming strategies?! For the sake of innocent bystanders, in future please rub your earlobes before you decide to riot (even if it’s only in your head!) But always demand free food…
*laughing* I don’t need calming strategies! Warriors are never calm, are they? I bet not. I mean, if a warrior was calm, what would become of him? Rub earlobes…I’ve never heard this, you know….
The ones that should be most feared are the quiet ones. Control is the key.
(I feel I should be writing for fortune cookies…)
*laughs* I think you should! But imagine how many you’d have to come up with.
Well it sounds like you rioting is quite the show, Professor. *fetches popcorn*
If the door was handle-less (no, I can hardly believe it). Could it be because it was made to simply swing open with a push? (I am wondering if you tried it before impressively busting down the door in your mind)
It only opens from the inside! Can you believe it? No..I just stood there for a long time. Depressing it was.
No, I can hardly believe that! Yes, that does sound rather depressing it. Breaking it down in real life would have been much more exciting and satisfying, I dare say. I have always wanted to kick in a door, just like in the action movies. But I wouldn’t like to have to replace it, so perhaps it’s best if I didn’t.
*laughs* And I’d probably end up breaking my leg trying to kick it down. This is a good reason to carry dynamite, huh?
This is an excellent reason to carry dynamite. However, it might make more of a mess.
There’s nothing better than a free lunch! So whatever else happens, the day has been a success after all.
Unless it’s awfully awful! Like those sausages you had once…
Oh my – that sausage was definitely trying to kill me. I only just survived…
Do you still have nightmares about it?
I do. In fact, on Sunday I had a sausage and I thought for a moment it might be a killer one. It had that taste about it. But I risked it and luckily survived. One cannot be too careful.
Professor, this was very funny. Quite the giggle-joke. Elevators going the wrong way and whatnot. Rioting. No handles. Life being harder for The Stupid. We must attack that Tower together. You know the one. The Cheeto’s.
Giggle-joke is such an interesting word, it is. Oh yes! We must! Let’s do it. How about you start a draft?
Ugh this just might happen to me now that my classes are on the sixth floor, with around 200 people, and only one elevator that can carry just 13 people. But I swear if anyone criticizes my swearing dadblameit…*insert any violent reaction*
*laughs* Exactly! Why do they do this to us? At least have enough elevators to get us where we need to go. I’ll probably die on the third floor. Get crushed or something.
Humph! I used to be the one to correct your curses. Let the new girl know she must be super bossy in the future. It’s only right. Oh, and since when do you bit tear doors down?! Sometimes being late allows for a light to shine on you…hope it worked to your advantage.
I think you should hunt her down and tackle her. Could you do it?
Is that a joke on my “oldness”? I can tackle.
*laughs* No! I know you can. I can still tackle. And I’m like 10 or so years older than you.
Lying again, I see. *points finger* I believe you can tackle. I can tackle a lemonade slush. Just discovered.
Ah, I wish you had busted down the door. Would have made great theater. Now we see you waiting outside like a kid looking into candy store. By the way. Who appointed that person that criticized your swearing the high chief of no swearing dadblameit?
Should I have hit her? I think that’s what she needed. You’re right. I should bust down the door.
Can’t hit a girl.
Dadblameit. Not just a little hit?
Nope. You can hug her though.
True story. I went for an interview in Atlanta, GA and made my car reservations about two weeks in advance. When I got there, they were all out of cars and I was LATE for the interview.
The manager thought I was pulling her leg and making an excuse when I told her that there were no rentals available when I got to the airport. It wasn’t until she looked at my resume that she saw I was out of state, and then my story rang true.
I should have rioted at the airport…… Grrrrhhh
Needless to say, with all that hustle and struggle, I didn’t get the job. Triple dadblameits. Four rats and six heifers!
Whoa. You should’ve held about 10 riots at the airport, then returned to the company to riot there. We can still schedule a riot, if you like. I’m up for one, I think.
(First off, this is Tuesday, not Wednesday and you’re just confusing me now! Well, I mean it’s Wednesday here, but Tuesday there, though I suppose it’s possible it’ll be Wednesday there when you read this. Or maybe Thursday. Here. Or there.)
The girl is quite correct, sir! In fact, I suspect that was me – was she gorgeous? Was she wearing a ballgown? Why are you always talking to girls anyway, huh???? You must not look on Mr Twain as a font of wisdom – the man wasn’t even able to brush his hair competently, not to mention his complete inability to shave properly! You should aim to be more like my Rafa, who never cusses. And has superb biceps. Which I’m willing to bet Mr Twain hadn’t. *nods*
*laughs* I sometimes upload the night prior to the day. Just cause…that’s when I have time to do it. Of course, it does put me off a bit, bits, and little bits. But I can’t worry about the details, you know. Details are just vexing.
I think more than half the people at school are girls! Tho my instructors are split fairly down the middle, tho. Tho. Have I said tho enough? Rafa…I was just watching him the minute ago. Well, last night. He’s an odd looking chap. But I like his headbands he wears. With the little check mark on them. I think mine would have an X on it.
Haha! You say that as if you actually have a schedule!
Good! They’ll set you a good example then! He is not odd looking – he’s lovely! You’re just jealous! Have you watched the final? It was a great match…
I do! I’m going to upload in just a bit here and be right on schedule. Haha. #win
I did! But I can’t keep track of how the scoring works!
Eh? What happened to last week then? Were you abducted by aliens and now they’ve wiped your memory?? *worried*
*laughs* You might want to learn that before you try out for the team…