Tag Archives: skin condition

Rude, but not spectacular. Yet.

This one doesn’t have a nickname yet (please feel free to make suggestions in the comments), but I feel the need to tag his behaviour pending developments.

I don’t know if I have moaned enough for it to have entered into your consciousness yet, dear reader, but this semester, I have a dreaded 8am class 2 days a week. It is a class I enjoy teaching, and it is one that I can teach with relatively little audience participation. The latter fact is important because at 8am, your average student, being nocturnal, is even less inclined to be responsive to requests for verbal feedback than at other times of the day.

I taught this same section last year, and as you may remember, it was enlivened by the flailing sleeper. This time around, judging by their written work, I have a nice small number of female students who actually can tell their asses from their elbows with regard to MLA. Promising. Also in the class is one guy. This guy is a clueless asshole.

He was missing from class for a couple days. On Tuesday, there was an assignment due, which the studious female students all handed in at the beginning of class. Then I started enthralling them with the tale of Chaucer’s private life, which I know about because I read his blog.

About 10 minutes in, this guy comes into the classroom, walks up to the front of the class, where I am lecturing animatedly, and STANDS THERE WITH HIS ASSIGNMENT. Like, RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. Dude. I am talking here. So I glare at him, and he holds his paper out, and either I have to take it, or he is going to fucking keep standing there. So I take it, and he walks to the back of the room and heads out the door.

At this point, I have to pause in my fascinating discussion of whether or not Chaucer was happily married, and, indeed whether or not that matters at all, to ask this jerk where he is going. And he says something about being ill (if you are ill, why did you take the trouble to come to class and give me your fucking germs, let me just get out the Purell, here), and I snap back “Well, thanks for interrupting class.” And he leaves.

So today I get an email from him – an email of several sentences, all jammed into one paragraph, with no capital letters and little punctuation – which explains, among other things, that his illness is some kind of skin condition (FANTASTIC), and that he didn’t get a doctor’s note, because it would cost $30. Is there in it one word of apology? There is not.

So, I am saying, just flagging this one, because I doubt this is going to be his only effort.