Gary Redux
In the fifteen minutes prior to a multiple-choice-three-months-warning-zero-preperation-mid-semester-marketing-communications-test I ate a large vegetarian curry, laced with a half shot of raita.
In the midst of Melbourne's hottest April on record, I picked away at an awkwardly large peice of brocoli and observed the university's mock town square half abuzz with lazy uni students and coffee sipping black and grey clad lecturers.
Having calculated the time it would take to walk to the lecture hall for the test, I looked at my watch, picked up my Dawson Leary postal bag full of expensive pretty and virginal text books and headed toward the exam.
Gary: 'Hey, hows it going?'
The Student: 'Oh hey man, hows it going?'
Gary (sans Nicole) was sitting behind me with a good looking and chatty brunette. It immediatly occured to me that Gary had taken the time to initiate a conversation with me while mid-prowl with this new lady friend. I had spotted Gary a few rows down from and to the right during the first long lecture for this particular subject, so we headed to the exam together.
On the way there the chatty brunette finished off the last of Gary's vegetable samosa.
Chatty: 'So this is quite spicy, what's in it? Peas and Potato?'
Gary: 'It's not that spicy.'
Chatty: *scoffs* 'Yes it is. What's the spice in it?"
Gary: 'Cumin.'
Chatty: 'Cumin?'
The Student: 'Yeah. . . Cumin.'
Gary and Chatty: *blank expressions*
Gary: 'Yeah I don't find it spicy, but you might."
Sensing that the joke might need a second airing to get it's desired result, I stuck with the same serving suggestion and offered it up again.
The Student:'Cumin.'
Gary and Chatty: *blanker expressions*
Gary: 'So how do you think you'll go on the exam?'
Chatty: 'Pretty good.'
After entering the examination venue, Gary and Chatty finished their pre-exam analysis and split up to prepare for showtime. Gary and myself found ourselves sitting on either side of Matt. Gary relaxed and unpacked his array of carefully sharpened HB pencils, Matt chatted to a gorgeous Sri Lankan girl a row in front of us, and I unconciously bit my nails.
It was 12.07pm before the class settled and the exam began. At 12.34pm I realised this exam was at best a 4/10 result, and at worst a 1/10; and resvoled to momentarily commit myself to study harder, longer and with more conviction to avoid the internal shame of failing a pissy mid semester test again.
At 12.57pm Gary handed back his exam and met Chatty outside. In Taiwan Nicole went on with some other 10.57am life.
In the midst of Melbourne's hottest April on record, I picked away at an awkwardly large peice of brocoli and observed the university's mock town square half abuzz with lazy uni students and coffee sipping black and grey clad lecturers.
Having calculated the time it would take to walk to the lecture hall for the test, I looked at my watch, picked up my Dawson Leary postal bag full of expensive pretty and virginal text books and headed toward the exam.
Gary: 'Hey, hows it going?'
The Student: 'Oh hey man, hows it going?'
Gary (sans Nicole) was sitting behind me with a good looking and chatty brunette. It immediatly occured to me that Gary had taken the time to initiate a conversation with me while mid-prowl with this new lady friend. I had spotted Gary a few rows down from and to the right during the first long lecture for this particular subject, so we headed to the exam together.
On the way there the chatty brunette finished off the last of Gary's vegetable samosa.
Chatty: 'So this is quite spicy, what's in it? Peas and Potato?'
Gary: 'It's not that spicy.'
Chatty: *scoffs* 'Yes it is. What's the spice in it?"
Gary: 'Cumin.'
Chatty: 'Cumin?'
The Student: 'Yeah. . . Cumin.'
Gary and Chatty: *blank expressions*
Gary: 'Yeah I don't find it spicy, but you might."
Sensing that the joke might need a second airing to get it's desired result, I stuck with the same serving suggestion and offered it up again.
The Student:'Cumin.'
Gary and Chatty: *blanker expressions*
Gary: 'So how do you think you'll go on the exam?'
Chatty: 'Pretty good.'
After entering the examination venue, Gary and Chatty finished their pre-exam analysis and split up to prepare for showtime. Gary and myself found ourselves sitting on either side of Matt. Gary relaxed and unpacked his array of carefully sharpened HB pencils, Matt chatted to a gorgeous Sri Lankan girl a row in front of us, and I unconciously bit my nails.
It was 12.07pm before the class settled and the exam began. At 12.34pm I realised this exam was at best a 4/10 result, and at worst a 1/10; and resvoled to momentarily commit myself to study harder, longer and with more conviction to avoid the internal shame of failing a pissy mid semester test again.
At 12.57pm Gary handed back his exam and met Chatty outside. In Taiwan Nicole went on with some other 10.57am life.
posted by The Student at 12:57 PM
3 Comments:
Perhaps you should eat more share-able food at Uni, like vegetable samosas, then you could offer it to pretty girls and start up conversations about spices and cumin.
I think cumin is legitimate sexual innuendo.
I think you need to get out more, Student.
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