An Unwanted Classmate
As I settled in this morning in accounting class, I idly noticed a wasp buzzing around one of the light fixtures in the middle of the room. I didn’t think much of it and spread my book, binder, and tablet on the table in front of me. I paid no more attention to him until I saw him descend from the heights and land in the middle of Dr. H’s overhead projector midway through class.
The sight of the oversized wasp on the screen was amusing to a number of us (it doesn’t take much to be amused in the midst of an accounting lecture), and it didn’t take Dr. H long to figure out that he was no longer the center of attention.
He walked over to the projector, lifted the paper the wasp was sitting on, and attempted to shake him to the floor. The wasp hung on for a bit, then reluctantly let go and flew over several inches and settled for sitting on the projector cart, instead of the projector itself.
Dr. H resumed his lecture, and the wasp spent some time enjoying the pros and cons of recognizing revenue from his front row seat. As one is wont to do, he must have gotten bored with the percent-of-completion method, so he lazily took flight to explore the light fixtures again. It was somewhat distracting to Dr. H, and he said, “Well, if I’d known he would be here, I’d have brought my flyswatter.”
Everyone resumed their respective duties—lecturing, dozing, doodling, or taking notes. A few minutes later, I became aware that the wasp had once again descended from his lofty playground because of a somewhat strangled squeal from Emily, who was sitting in my row about five people away from me. She emitted the sound again, only at a slightly more elevated pitch and volume. She was trying—without much success—to control her fear as the wasp buzzed around her head.
By that time, Dr. H had caught on that, once again, he was no longer the center of attention. He quit talking, and we all watched as poor Emily scooted her chair back, trying to dodge the wasp. She must have thought he landed in her hair, for she bent over and shook her hair while combing it with her fingers. As she finger combed her hair, the wasp lazily floated away, not caring much for the commotion. Once she had been assured that the wasp had not taken up residence in her hair, Emily resumed her seat and class continued.
I, of course, was down at the end of the row dealing with a problem of my own. Now I know it’s not nice to laugh at people, and even though I didn’t really want to be laughing at what was an uncomfortable situation for Emily, it became one of those situations where it was acceptable to “chuckle, chuckle” and then be done with it—and I could not comply. And to make matters worse, my buddy sitting to my left was not doing so well at complying either. It took a bit, but we finally managed to dry it up.
Less than five minutes later, the wasp disrupted class again by landing on the projector. This time, Dr. H was not going to let an opportunity slip by without at least making an attempt at punishing the wasp for being disruptive in class. He strolled over to the podium, picked up his large accounting textbook, and approached the projector with his weapon in hand. I was hoping he wouldn’t get too slaphappy, because I didn’t think the projector would be too keen on getting that particular type of attention.
Dr. H took aim and struck the wasp with a controlled swat that didn’t have the desired effect. The wasp toppled down onto the cart where Dr. H took aim once more and landed a solid punch. With a “So there!,” Dr. H strolled back to the podium in a dignified manner and resumed his lecture.
Accounting books are such useful items! And see? We do have fun in accounting class.
The sight of the oversized wasp on the screen was amusing to a number of us (it doesn’t take much to be amused in the midst of an accounting lecture), and it didn’t take Dr. H long to figure out that he was no longer the center of attention.
He walked over to the projector, lifted the paper the wasp was sitting on, and attempted to shake him to the floor. The wasp hung on for a bit, then reluctantly let go and flew over several inches and settled for sitting on the projector cart, instead of the projector itself.
Dr. H resumed his lecture, and the wasp spent some time enjoying the pros and cons of recognizing revenue from his front row seat. As one is wont to do, he must have gotten bored with the percent-of-completion method, so he lazily took flight to explore the light fixtures again. It was somewhat distracting to Dr. H, and he said, “Well, if I’d known he would be here, I’d have brought my flyswatter.”
Everyone resumed their respective duties—lecturing, dozing, doodling, or taking notes. A few minutes later, I became aware that the wasp had once again descended from his lofty playground because of a somewhat strangled squeal from Emily, who was sitting in my row about five people away from me. She emitted the sound again, only at a slightly more elevated pitch and volume. She was trying—without much success—to control her fear as the wasp buzzed around her head.
By that time, Dr. H had caught on that, once again, he was no longer the center of attention. He quit talking, and we all watched as poor Emily scooted her chair back, trying to dodge the wasp. She must have thought he landed in her hair, for she bent over and shook her hair while combing it with her fingers. As she finger combed her hair, the wasp lazily floated away, not caring much for the commotion. Once she had been assured that the wasp had not taken up residence in her hair, Emily resumed her seat and class continued.
I, of course, was down at the end of the row dealing with a problem of my own. Now I know it’s not nice to laugh at people, and even though I didn’t really want to be laughing at what was an uncomfortable situation for Emily, it became one of those situations where it was acceptable to “chuckle, chuckle” and then be done with it—and I could not comply. And to make matters worse, my buddy sitting to my left was not doing so well at complying either. It took a bit, but we finally managed to dry it up.
Less than five minutes later, the wasp disrupted class again by landing on the projector. This time, Dr. H was not going to let an opportunity slip by without at least making an attempt at punishing the wasp for being disruptive in class. He strolled over to the podium, picked up his large accounting textbook, and approached the projector with his weapon in hand. I was hoping he wouldn’t get too slaphappy, because I didn’t think the projector would be too keen on getting that particular type of attention.
Dr. H took aim and struck the wasp with a controlled swat that didn’t have the desired effect. The wasp toppled down onto the cart where Dr. H took aim once more and landed a solid punch. With a “So there!,” Dr. H strolled back to the podium in a dignified manner and resumed his lecture.
Accounting books are such useful items! And see? We do have fun in accounting class.
Labels: School
posted by Sharon @ 9:54 PM
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