On the wet, miserable day I was currently suffering from, our class was treated to Professor F’s rendition of Prince Hamlet’s famous speech, “to be, or not to be”. He stood in front of the room, feet spread, shoulders back, strong and immovable, kind of like a yoga mountain pose. As he boomed out “to be”, the book he was holding swung to the left, and his head followed. His nose and his shoulders stretched toward the ceiling and, as his voice raised another octave, everything shifted to the right and up as he shouted out “or not to be”. He returned to center on the word “that” and faded away with “is the question”.

The book was closed firmly, echoing in the quiet room, and I really thought he was going to bow. I snorted at the thought. Then I grinned. A chuckle became an outright roar of laughter. The entire morning’s drama was more than my soggy emotions could handle. The more I tried to stop laughing, the louder I became. Peals of laughter rolled out of me. Guffaws and gurgles geysered from my mouth. Tears were streaming and I snorted some more.

The only thing that could have made the situation worse was a laugh induced fart which would probably have bubbled in my puddle. Thank goodness I still had a young bladder at that point because you know what would have happened with my current kegle exercise deprived body. I had reduced myself to the status of a simpleton and the whole class was a cacophony of chuckles and belly shaking laughter.

Over the uproar, I heard Professor F slam his book down onto his desk. He walked toward me, and poised on the edge of my personal space, which in this case was defined by a near Olympic sized pool of water, his eyes bulging. He leaned over my desk, sputtering out “Miss Rue-shay, you will leave my class. Now!”

I stood, clutching my belongings, and attempted sobriety. Being just a few steps beyond normal, however, more giggles erupted with each squish of my shoes and I rue-shayed myself right on out the door. I laughed myself down the hallway and out of the building into glorious sunshine and a sparkling clean world.

I used my exceptional writing skills to pen an apology to dear Professor F, using B.S. in its finest form. He graciously allowed me to return to class. I spent the rest of the semester wearing a muzzle and ear plugs….

One thought on “Expelled

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