Duskygrin
10-27-2006, 09:29 AM
My school. The big amphitheatre. Professor pointing at blurry objects on the blurry slides.
"And as you may see on the board, the competences required to play in that precise strategic group while retaining an efficient cost structure cannot be gathered by the corporation, which in turn..."
ZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzz zzzzzz
"Good morning, miss! As I understand it, you're the first student to take your driving exam! It's precisely 10 o'clock at my watch, & the weather is set fair for today. Will you join me for a ride?"
Wrapped in my capeline, with my black gloves on & shod in my ankle boots, I advance to greet a tall man with fluffy cottoncandy hair. He's standing, a benevolent smile on his face, beside a little car, which strikes me as slightly peculiar. It also looks as though made of cottoncandy, of a soft pink shade, & I can see no trace of wheels beneath. No wheels, but four little grey clouds, looking for all the world as though they had just left the scenery of a cartoon to zoom in under the car, are supporting it; they're moving to & fro, constantly changing shapes, as befits a cloud. Managing an awkward smile, I shake hands with the tall man, who courteously opens the left door of the car to seat me in behind the steering wheel. He then sweeps round the car & sits beside me.
"Well, my dear, don't put such a glum face, I want to see you smile! Let me check your record." With trembling fingers, I hand him my record, which he barely flips thru at all. Flinging it aside & rubbing his two rosy chubby hands together, he exclaims with great joviality:
"Well, before we begin the practical examination, let's have a look at your technical knowledge of cars! First of all, the simplest facts which a child could answer. What are cars made of?"
My jaw drops.
"W-w-what precise car do you have in mind, if you'll pardon my asking, s-s-sir?"
His eyes are suddenly two round golf balls.
"What do you mean, 'what precise car'? Surely you're joking! Why, I meant... all the cars in the world! This car, for instance!" he says, frowning slightly & looking exceedingly puzzled.
"Oh, in that case, I can fairly answer that all cars are made of c... c-c-cottoncandy?" I venture, tentatively.
"Why, too true but of course! What on earth would cars be made of, if not cottoncandy! As everybody knows, it's relied upon for its great resilience & impact-absorption in case of collision" he explains matter-of-factly. Then sudenly, changing his tone & leaning forward confidentially: "You know, you really don't have to be stressed, my dear. I'm merely checking if you know your basics, that's all, & I dare say, that's also why I'm paid for, you see!" he winds up pinching my cheek. I blush slightly, not out of shyness (for how can you be shy with such a man) but because of the slight physical discomfort ensued.
"Well, well... can you now tell me where the spare cloud is located?" he asks, not looking at me, but straight ahead beyond the windscreen.
"The spare cloud?" I echo blankly.
"Yes, you heard me" he retorts somewhat peevishly.
Suddently a thought strikes me. "Of course! Beneath the truck, at the back!" I exclaim.
"Indeed, no need to bounce off your seat, though... & pray tell me, does this cloud need be of the same brand & structure as the other clouds?" he asks, eyeing his fingernails.
"Oh, not the same brand, that's not necessary, but they do have to be of the same structure." I answer, almost breathlessly. I was gathering confidence!
"Right, perfect. Well now, we'll start the practical examination proper. You may drive. Just drive safely, & avoid the little birds & squirrels around" he says, settling comfortably in his seat.
This request baffles me. Where on earth is the key? And the clutch? How do I change gears? Why do I have only one pedal at my disposal? Utterly flummoxed, I mentally cross myself & put a dainty foot on the pedal, pressing it slightly; the car coughs, yawns, emits small burps & clumsily adv...
"Maria! You're not attending!" a voice booms out of the darkness.
Somebody nudges my right elbow, jerking it off the desk it was precariously resting on. I fall off my chair.
"Maria! May you repeat what I've just been saying?" the voice booms again, this time in the midst of a packed amphitheatre.
Slowly gathering my wits & rubbing my pained elbow, I reply with a ghost of a smile & burning cheeks:
"You were saying that... that... that I wasn't attending?"
"Precisely! I thank you for showing my point so adequately! You may leave. You'll take back your belongings when the class ends. Be off." the voice ends testily.
With hanging head, I trudge away from the class.
"And as you may see on the board, the competences required to play in that precise strategic group while retaining an efficient cost structure cannot be gathered by the corporation, which in turn..."
ZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzz zzzzzz
"Good morning, miss! As I understand it, you're the first student to take your driving exam! It's precisely 10 o'clock at my watch, & the weather is set fair for today. Will you join me for a ride?"
Wrapped in my capeline, with my black gloves on & shod in my ankle boots, I advance to greet a tall man with fluffy cottoncandy hair. He's standing, a benevolent smile on his face, beside a little car, which strikes me as slightly peculiar. It also looks as though made of cottoncandy, of a soft pink shade, & I can see no trace of wheels beneath. No wheels, but four little grey clouds, looking for all the world as though they had just left the scenery of a cartoon to zoom in under the car, are supporting it; they're moving to & fro, constantly changing shapes, as befits a cloud. Managing an awkward smile, I shake hands with the tall man, who courteously opens the left door of the car to seat me in behind the steering wheel. He then sweeps round the car & sits beside me.
"Well, my dear, don't put such a glum face, I want to see you smile! Let me check your record." With trembling fingers, I hand him my record, which he barely flips thru at all. Flinging it aside & rubbing his two rosy chubby hands together, he exclaims with great joviality:
"Well, before we begin the practical examination, let's have a look at your technical knowledge of cars! First of all, the simplest facts which a child could answer. What are cars made of?"
My jaw drops.
"W-w-what precise car do you have in mind, if you'll pardon my asking, s-s-sir?"
His eyes are suddenly two round golf balls.
"What do you mean, 'what precise car'? Surely you're joking! Why, I meant... all the cars in the world! This car, for instance!" he says, frowning slightly & looking exceedingly puzzled.
"Oh, in that case, I can fairly answer that all cars are made of c... c-c-cottoncandy?" I venture, tentatively.
"Why, too true but of course! What on earth would cars be made of, if not cottoncandy! As everybody knows, it's relied upon for its great resilience & impact-absorption in case of collision" he explains matter-of-factly. Then sudenly, changing his tone & leaning forward confidentially: "You know, you really don't have to be stressed, my dear. I'm merely checking if you know your basics, that's all, & I dare say, that's also why I'm paid for, you see!" he winds up pinching my cheek. I blush slightly, not out of shyness (for how can you be shy with such a man) but because of the slight physical discomfort ensued.
"Well, well... can you now tell me where the spare cloud is located?" he asks, not looking at me, but straight ahead beyond the windscreen.
"The spare cloud?" I echo blankly.
"Yes, you heard me" he retorts somewhat peevishly.
Suddently a thought strikes me. "Of course! Beneath the truck, at the back!" I exclaim.
"Indeed, no need to bounce off your seat, though... & pray tell me, does this cloud need be of the same brand & structure as the other clouds?" he asks, eyeing his fingernails.
"Oh, not the same brand, that's not necessary, but they do have to be of the same structure." I answer, almost breathlessly. I was gathering confidence!
"Right, perfect. Well now, we'll start the practical examination proper. You may drive. Just drive safely, & avoid the little birds & squirrels around" he says, settling comfortably in his seat.
This request baffles me. Where on earth is the key? And the clutch? How do I change gears? Why do I have only one pedal at my disposal? Utterly flummoxed, I mentally cross myself & put a dainty foot on the pedal, pressing it slightly; the car coughs, yawns, emits small burps & clumsily adv...
"Maria! You're not attending!" a voice booms out of the darkness.
Somebody nudges my right elbow, jerking it off the desk it was precariously resting on. I fall off my chair.
"Maria! May you repeat what I've just been saying?" the voice booms again, this time in the midst of a packed amphitheatre.
Slowly gathering my wits & rubbing my pained elbow, I reply with a ghost of a smile & burning cheeks:
"You were saying that... that... that I wasn't attending?"
"Precisely! I thank you for showing my point so adequately! You may leave. You'll take back your belongings when the class ends. Be off." the voice ends testily.
With hanging head, I trudge away from the class.