"I Think I found a car for you," my colleague says to a student while we stand outside, smoking. "A nineteen eighty nine Jeep Wagoneer."
"Yeah well, cars cost money, man," the student replies. "How much was it?"
"Three-thousand."
"Well I only have a hundred bucks, and that's gotta last," the student retorts. "Manual or automatic?"
"Manual," my colleague says. "It's a truck."
"Fuck that, I can't do that," the student says. "Gotta have the shift."
"If you want to put your hand on something," my colleague shoots back, "grab your dick."
Arithmetic
I'm smoking out back and the director pulls into the lot, exits his car, and heads toward my direction, shaking his head.
"I tell you," he says, "trying to teach [the softball coach] how to do a mail merge over the phone is like trying to teach an algebra equation to a baby."
"I tell you," he says, "trying to teach [the softball coach] how to do a mail merge over the phone is like trying to teach an algebra equation to a baby."
Hereabouts
From a student questionnaire:
How did you hear about this institution?
The guy who called me said that if I didn't apply he'd kill my dog and make it look like an accident!
How did you hear about this institution?
The guy who called me said that if I didn't apply he'd kill my dog and make it look like an accident!
Burning One for One in Hell
"They're changing the Christmas program this year. It's going to be more like a play," she says.
My colleague and I take this in.
She continues, "They're even going to have a real, live baby Jesus."
My colleague thinks it over.
"You'd make a good wise man," I said to him.
"I'd bring the myrrh," he says.
"I'd want the gold," I state, "but I'd keep it!"
He laughs as we slip further down the slope of sacrilege.
"He and I wouldn't make good wise men," my colleague says to anyone listening. "We'd end up stopping at Sodom and Gomorrah and blowing all our cash."
"Sorry, Jesus," I say, "but I did get you this great t-shirt!"
My colleague and I take this in.
She continues, "They're even going to have a real, live baby Jesus."
My colleague thinks it over.
"You'd make a good wise man," I said to him.
"I'd bring the myrrh," he says.
"I'd want the gold," I state, "but I'd keep it!"
He laughs as we slip further down the slope of sacrilege.
"He and I wouldn't make good wise men," my colleague says to anyone listening. "We'd end up stopping at Sodom and Gomorrah and blowing all our cash."
"Sorry, Jesus," I say, "but I did get you this great t-shirt!"
Smoke Break Thursday Afternoon
"What's that guy doing?" a colleague asks.
I look around, up into the heavens where his gaze is angled, but see nothing.
"This guy, right here," and he points to a tiny spider hanging by a thread of silk from the overhang above the rear entrance to the building.
"He's waiting around for the opportune moment to lay eggs in some chick's hair."
He laughs.
"Aren't we all waiting for that. Except those aren't really eggs."
I look around, up into the heavens where his gaze is angled, but see nothing.
"This guy, right here," and he points to a tiny spider hanging by a thread of silk from the overhang above the rear entrance to the building.
"He's waiting around for the opportune moment to lay eggs in some chick's hair."
He laughs.
"Aren't we all waiting for that. Except those aren't really eggs."
Upon Seeing a Watercolor Portrait of a Large, Naked Man Seated in an Armchair
"Remind me never to go over to that guy's house for a football game."
Turning up the Heat
A colleague and I are behind our office building having a cigarette when one of his students approaches us. Clear skies, a sunny day, she says to my colleague:
"Isn't he hot?"
She's talking about me, I realize; this is a bit awkward. I look down at myself and then to my colleague, and notice that he is wearing a short-sleeve grey polo while I wear a blue, thin, long-sleeve shirt.
"No," I say, "This is light material. Lighter material than the shirt he's wearing," and I point to my colleague.
She laughs, and walks away towards her car.
Once she had walked out of earshot, my colleague says:
"Yeah, he's kind of hot."
"Fuck off," I say.
"Not really into dudes though."
"Isn't he hot?"
She's talking about me, I realize; this is a bit awkward. I look down at myself and then to my colleague, and notice that he is wearing a short-sleeve grey polo while I wear a blue, thin, long-sleeve shirt.
"No," I say, "This is light material. Lighter material than the shirt he's wearing," and I point to my colleague.
She laughs, and walks away towards her car.
Once she had walked out of earshot, my colleague says:
"Yeah, he's kind of hot."
"Fuck off," I say.
"Not really into dudes though."
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