My English Professor Knows My Name

by William Jackson on 2004-09-10

I left the computer lab at 10:51 AM, knowing that I had a long trek ahead of me. Using the east exit of the UGL lobby, I crossed the parking area and entered the towerʼs corridor. Out the other side, I descended the steps east of the tower. I was sure most of the students I passed had no idea they were standing above the underground Computation Center.

I traversed Speedway, and walked (ever swiftly) down the East Mall. Hello, Martin Luther King, Jr. Goodbye, Martin Luther King, Jr. If I recall correctly, Pease Fountain was on. I walked across the big East Mall bus circle, crossed San Jacinto and entered the stadium.

There are classrooms in the stadium. Gosh. I took the elevator up to the third floor and entered my classroom. Welcome to E 316K, Masterworks of British Literature. I walked up the side aisle, all the way to the back, because that is where my TA was taking attendance. My professor wants to take attendance in a class of several hundred students. Gosh. I get marked present, then I go back down to the front via the centre aisle.

I am about to sit down when I hear my professor say, “William, thatʼs a cool shirt youʼre wearing. Hey everyone, look at Williamʼs shirt! William, show everyone your shirt.”

I slowly rotated my body so all several hundred of my classmates could get a clear view of my shirt. When it was evident that some people in the back couldnʼt read what it said, I loudly read my shirt to them.

“My GPA Sucks!”