Bleck, I Over Ate

Ok, so, to top off my very first section
of WS100, we have a potential gas leak
40 minutes into the final.

Oddly enough, we are the only class engaged
in a final, in that building, at that hour.

What would you do if you were the instructor,
there were 40 students in an oven-sized classroom,
and you noticed other noses crinkling-up
during the final exam, during hell week no less?

I did what any other humanities-bred English teacher
would and should do; I yelled
FIRE! and lit a match.


Sorry, another rift on my sick sick fantasies.
I did however, evacuate the room (not the building--after all,
this was a final d*mnit!) and called maintanance.

Because all of you are off in your own little worlds today,
doing who knows what, I really can't imagine,
I have the privelege of sparing you the next 40 minutes
of "human drama" [gotta rent _Huckabees_] and giving you the
short short:

It was gas. human gas. the sewage system under the building
has sprung a leak and can be smelled through the vents.

Remembering I was metered parked today, I quickly jumped into my car,
lets pretend it is a convertable on sunny days,
and zoomed off to a local deli for a lunch break.

Only the deli is now a fastfood joint with
a name that litterally means "fast." D*mn again.
I ate at chicken-eatery I passed along the way
b/c they had popcorn chicken,
and one simply cannot catch such delicacies every day.
Yet, once I ordered, I discovered
that nothing on my plate was green, red, orange, or yellow;
the basic
veggie/fruity colors. Instead, my food was all golden, crispy browns--
the colors of undigestable, saturated fats. That are sometimes tasty.

Now? 20 minutes later? My gut feels like it is going to explode from a chemical
reaction to grease.

I kept telling my students, the ones from section A06,
that no one was going to die today.

But I'm not for sure.