To the Guy Who’s Late…

…one HOUR late.

For your FINAL EXAM.

Which I reminded you about. Four times.

Heyy there Mister! You look pretty sleepy. Been up all night studying? Yeah, I thought not.

Whatcha got for me? Car wreck? Traffic too much for ya? Police show up at your house to arrest you? Again?

Look, if you could manage something halfway convincing, I might let you take this thing.

You know your shirt’s on backwards, right?

So, what was it? Alarm clock? Family crisis? Downed power lines?

Long line at the Starbucks?

Ok. Since perceptibly you’re incapable of fabricating a reasoning beyond “I dunno whut happund”, I decline to accomodate your laggard ingress to my locality of educative proceedings and wish that you might osculate my tuchis. You could potentially be accorded an approbation derived from the foreperson of my academic division, but your future remains dubious under my jurisdiction. Regardless, the summer session’s aperture is imminent, and, as you possess not an iota of a prospect of achieving the quantitative or qualitative measure to matriculate from my bailiwick, I recommend a hasty matriculaton for the first available section commencing in a fortnight.  

And may God have mercy upon your soul.

This entry was posted in language, mission and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

15 Responses to To the Guy Who’s Late…

  1. Gibby says:

    YEAH! What she said!

    (Why did this person even bother to come after an hour anyhow???)

  2. KathyB! says:

    “osculate my tuchis”

    tee hee! My maturity is showing through again 🙂

    That takes a heck of a lot of nerve to show up late *and* without a Hollywood-quality, iron-clad excuse.

    And are you certain you’re not a lawyer?!

  3. KathyB! says:

    And I forgot to say thank you for waiting in that long line at the world according to me 🙂 You’re the best!

  4. ck says:

    I once went to school with a girl who told the class that the person sitting next to her on the subway stole her container of homemade pepperoni bread (that she was bringing to the last day of class) as well as her screenplay (that was due that day). WHY CAN’T PEOPLE DO THEIR FREAKIN’ WORK? (and why does it bother me so much?)

  5. insider53 says:

    Ha ha ha tuchis…. haven’t heard that one in a while.

  6. antropologa says:

    I usually let them do it late, as, for listening classes, they’ve usually missed the listening part. One tried to get me to play it all again for him. Um, I think not, buddy.

  7. faemom says:

    A whole hour late?! Why bother showing? I’ve got a question for you: What’s worse showing up an hour late for the final exam or answering your ringing cell phone in the middle of the exam?

  8. Maybe he likes your class so much that he’s totally torn up at the prospect of finals and having to leave. Or maybe he’s just a lazy little fart.

  9. Ink says:

    Once I had someone show up an hour late and then get MAD that I wouldn’t stay an extra hour to give them “the same amount of time as everyone else.”

    I feel your pain…

  10. That last paragraph is the most awesome thing I’ve read in a very long time.

    You should tell him that if he can understand what you said right there you’ll pass him. But that would just be mean.

  11. evenshine says:

    I’m not sure why they even bother to come after an hour. Maybe some profs are more merciful than moi.

    He went away chagrined but unimpressively distraught.

    In the end, I’m hoping he’ll learn from the experience and make better choices.


  12. I love the idea of making him restate in his own words your final paragraph.

    And I want to know how you kept from laughing at him.

    Sense of entitlement much?

  13. You are a genius!! That last paragraph is the best ever!!!

  14. SAHM I AM says:

    hahaha … just catching up on your blog posts. After reading the last paragraph, I visualized you saying exactly that to your student and the sorry soul standing there dumbfounded, wondering if that was a “yes” (he can take the exam) or “no”.

  15. ultraguy says:

    oh, make it stop… big words hurt head… the bells! the bells!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s