Wednesday, August 15, 2012

"Even if I am a school of medicine professor..." - showdown at orientation

Howdy. Our serene and mostly peaceful school has been recently hijacked by hordes of eager, goggle-eyed first-years. The firsties started orientation yesterday and a majority of them spent last week getting to know each other and the great city of St. Louis by participating in a community program.

Yesterday wise second years who are involved in various student-run groups were invited to give brief presentations (and by brief, I really mean brief. We were told not to exceed 45 seconds) to the firsties. Yours truly grabbed the opportunity and gave a smashing presentation. Standing ovation and all. Nah just kidding.

Anyway, that's not the story. The story is something that happened right before the event. Our benevolent school always provides enough Pappa John's pizza to feed an army regiment at most events like this. Since the welfare of students is priority numero uno, a bunch of stern guards admissions staff guards the pizza with great zeal and pride.

Perhaps tempted by the sweet aroma of the sausage pizza a faculty member stopped by. Now I know quite a bit about this dude, and he is a baller. Baller with a capital B. He is young, charismatic, creative, and insanely smart. He sauntered up to the lunch table and the following scene ensued:

Dr. BD (Baller Dude): I am gonna have some pizza.

GL (Guard Lady): I am sorry, this pizza is for a student event. Students only.

Dr. BD: But there is so much pizza...

GL: I am sorry. Students only. We have to make sure there is enough for everybody.

At this point BD is getting very agitated. He probably expected this to be a clean job: swoop in, grab a couple of slices, and go save lives. 

Dr. BD: Even if I am a school of medicine professor....

GL's lips are pursed. She can't seem to believe he pulled this card.

GL: Yes. You are not a student.

Dr. BD: This is ridiculous. (Storms away in magnificent, awe-inspiring style)

GL (can't resist a parting shot): You can afford your own lunch.

Savor this while I go worry about my receding hairline.

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