The Week of the Education
So this week was Education Week at my university. Thousands of people from all over descend upon the campus like so many locusts, for the purpose of getting knowledge. That's what they say they're doing, anyway. We all know they're just here to get away from their families and meet up with all their friends to talk about how darn much the campus has changed in 25 years. The classes are about everything from religion to finances to parenting to fashion ("The Denim Jumper: It's Still Hot, No Matter What Anyone Says!!!)
Most people who come here for Education Week are lovely. They're excited to be here, they're having a great time, the classes are great, and the world is just fabulous.
Unfortunately, I never meet the lovely people. I meet the weirdos.
I ran a booth in the student center for several shifts this week, supposedly so I could give out information about the online courses my department offers. Instead, I became some kind of Information Booth for the Lost and/or Weird. Some people thought I was some sort of academic advisor for every field under the sun, rather than a trained monkey who existed simply to hand out catalogues.
So. Here are some of the things I heard. Please imagine that the speakers appear to have come straight from cabins or lean-tos in the forest somewhere.
My son was just laid off. He really likes computers, though. What do you
think he should do to get more experience and training?
Where are the bathrooms?
Where's Jamba Juice?
Where is registration?
I want to get a masters degree in Environmental Science, but I know your
school doesn’t have anything in that. What should I take to give me a good
background?
Where is the elevator?
Where is registration?
I don’t have the Internet at my house.
Where can I find See’s chocolate?
Ooooh, Pens!
(implied) I see that you are on your cell phone. I’m going to ask you questions anyway.
Do you have any more of those pens?
(implied) I see that you are speaking with someone else at your booth, but my question is more
important and so I must ask it now!!!
(implied) I am going to stand here and tell you my life story for exactly 34 minutes, and I won’t stop even when your eyes glaze over, because you’re attached to this booth and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Every night in my dreams, I see you, I fee-ee-eeel you . . . thaaat is how I know you . . . go on. (said by Saline Dion over the sound system)
Can you tell me where my class is? I don’t know the room number, I just know it’s in this building somewhere.
Hey, this isn’t what this building looked like the last time I was here in 1983!
Do you know where my class is? I don't know what room it is, since the schedule just says [Student Center] with a 3421 in front of it.
I almost went here to school, 35 years ago. That was before the divorce, though. I still don’t know what went wrong there. And, I mean, I date, but I’m having a hard time finding a nice LDS lady. Lots of them are older now and they just want careers. So you’re single, huh? Can I ask why? Just haven't found the One and Only yet, huh? Yeah, I'm having a hard time finding a nice LDS lady. There just aren't too many of them around.
That last one better not have been going where I think it was going.
I'm Steph, a librarian and mom of 3 (not sure how that happened). Let's chat books, food, Sumptuous Literary Adaptations, poop, knitting and maybe some crazy Mormon Feminism.
12 comments:
My favorite are the people who want to tell every detail of how they got to your booth that day. Starting with setting out from their cabin or leanto.
One time Corey and I were working a booth together, and when the woman stopped for breath after about ten minutes, he said, in a really fake sincere voice, "What a great story!" I just about wet my pants. I'm pretty sure I did choke on some water. Fun times. I bet you're excited to get out of there in just 1,865 days.
Oh yeah, you're right! Lots of these people were toothless. And the women all had very deep voices. I don't know why.
Ok, just to set the record striaght. Long denium skirts ARE hot. I don't know what it is about them, but I definitly like 'em.
Also, you spelt Celine wrong, sorry luv.
Uh... actually my mom might have been one of those toothless people. I'm not even kidding. She even came home with some IS propaganda, so thanks. Thanks for writing terrible things about my mom. And for your information, she's probably the one who said, "My daughter is desperately single. I notice you are, too. Why don't you marry my son?" And you said no! You said no, and all that time, you could have been saying yes to marry Brother 2! I'm just saying.
Excuse, me I was googling information about BYU education week and I was wondering if you could tell me what courses will be offered next year, who the key note speaker is, and what hotels have the best rate while being close to the bus line? Any info you can share will be appreciated.
First off, coolboy my brother, I didn't misspell "Celine." I call her Saline Dion (like Saline solution) so that's how I spell it, But thanks for caring.
DanaLee, don't make me come out there.
Cicada, please excuse me while I break out the sackcloth and ashes. Also remind me to get my ovaries removed, since I won't ever be able to use them to make babies with w/Brother 2. My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.
Well, as long as you're throwing away the ovaries, harvest your eggs beforehand so that you can get money. It's soooooo much better than donating hair.
Well shoot, why didn't you tell me that BEFORE I took out all those student loans? They haven't been disbursed yet though . . .
Can you tell me where I can get a Navajo taco and an apple fritter? And can you also tell me what happened to the orange plastic booths and the pictures of the homecoming queens? I mean, I was here in 1976, but I just don't understand why I can't find anything.
Sigh. Remind me never to go to Ed Week. I'd be afraid to approach the booth attendants.
Well, anonymous, you're probably safe to go next year. I won't be there, so I'm sure it will be a kinder, gentler place.
I think it's ironic that coolboy called you on your spelling (which was clever, btw--you know how I feel about Saline), and yet he misspelled "denim" and "definitely." I'm sure you were too nice to point that out, so I thought I would.
Also, Sean loves denim skirts and thinks they're hot. They drive him insane, which is why I no longer wear them. What is UP with that?
And if you're going around offering your eggs to people, don't bother with the IS crowd. They're a little prudish about such things, as I found out when I was recruiting for a sperm donor. Only one taker, and his wife said no, so I remain small-childless, which is actually looking really good, now that all the kids are back in school. Thank goodness that little experiment didn't pan out!
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