Poetic Champions Compose

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Tuesday, July 29, 2003
 
THERE ONCE WAS A BOY NAMED PIERRE

Written today in an email to Zam:

So, let me just tell you about the guy who sits behind me in this stinking class...

First of all, I am so freakin' bored out of my mind during the "instruction" part of the class that I would rather jab my eyes out with knitting needles than sit there and wait...and wait...and wait for everyone else to catch up.

Secondly, part of the reason why it takes so long for everyone to catch up is because of Pierre. Yes, that is his real name. Pierre sits right behind me, and is probably about 40+ years old. He is not a teacher yet. He is a culinary arts guy who wants to become a cullinary arts teacher. He is taking this class to "get a jump" on the educational stuff since he is also taking his ed classes through Temple U.

Pierre is a moron.

I doubt that Pierre has ever used a computer before in his life. Even the simplest of things, Pierre has to ask for help with, or to have repeated. Such as:

Teacher: "Ok, let's click on the disk icon and save this. *pause* Alright then, let's open a new slide..."
Pierre: "What do I click on to save?"
Teacher: "The disk icon in the upper left on your toolbar...ok...now, we should have a new slide up..."
Pierre: "How do I start a new slide?"

This is usually followed by a very audible heavy SIGH from both myself and the cool chick who sits next to me.

Another thing that irks me about this guy is that he is VERY vocal. He will interrupt by calling out when he gets lost--which is about every 5 seconds--and he (this is the worst) answers RHETORICAL questions. Out loud. As if he speaks for all of us. Yesterday, the teacher asked if everyone was ready to move on. He belted out, "YES."

WTF?!?!? How the hell do you, Pierre, know if I am finished?

It's torture, dammit.

P.S. Bonus points to anyone who can figure out where the post title comes from. Hint: Think elementary school...think musicals...Think Maurice Sendak
 
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