Pronounced privacy with a short i. Like shiv.
Two incidents occurred the other day in/around the student health center.
Incident #1: A guy crosses the study area, heading to the student health center. He's wearing aviators, jean shorts, a black dress shirt and a silver tie. You're with me, right? So a girl shouts across the room: "Where are you headed?" He replies, "Health center." Girl - "Cool, see you later". Tie guy: "Yeah, keep your fingers crossed I don't have syphilis". Really? Did he really just yell that across the room? My land. Some people have no shame. Joke didn't quite come across, especially because he was dressed as he was. Icky. He probably had gristedes, too.
Incident #2: Walking into the health center, a woman asked me* to fill out a survey. Sure, why not. It's a survey on depression. After I fill it out, I return it to the woman and she reviewed quickly and declared "Well, looks like you're not depressed!" Cool, sounds good. Wait. What if I had answered questions and it turned out that I was depressed? I mean, would she have just dropped the bomb on me? "Well, sorry to tell you but you are clinically depressed and should probably be on medication and dear heavens how are you even making it through life right now you poor child without your life taking an abysmal turn into tattered ruins oh dear lord save us all." Is this really something you should be telling to a student who IS DEPRESSED TO BEGIN WITH ANYWAY. It just doesn't add up.
*This did not actually happen to me, but a classmate. But it was LIKE I was there.
2 comments:
See, here's the thing: When you're annoyed or mad and you write about it, the outcome of my entire day changes. Because all day long, I'm laughing to myself about the funny things "gnomie" said. I miss you. :)
Good stories! Gnomie you're a crackup.
Post a Comment