The Luck of the Brandon

Yesterday was Brandon’s birthday, and I decided to spend the day with him. I didn’t want to tell him this in advance, because I decided the surprise would only be heightened if he were to first learn of it when I strolled (posing as a student) into the math class he teaches.

Sadly, his class begins at 8, so in order to make the journey northward without incurring my third ticket, I had to rise at an hour normally considered my bedtime: 5am.

Considering I didn’t retire the night previous until roughly 1, nor achieve sleep until about 3, I was not excited when my clock began to chirp. But the prospect of experiencing B’s instructional style got me going. I showered and set off, with the neatly printed/highlighted map I’d prepared the night before.

All went according to schedule, except for one little glitch: when I arrived at WC 0351, I found 40 students with their heads down. When I sidled up to B’s table, I noted he, too, didn’t bother to look up and instead just made as to hand me…a test.

Four classes a week since January, and I happen to show up on one of only 3 test days. Lucky bastard.

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