Today I ran into Spencer in front of the library before German class. Spencer was complaining.

“I really don’t want to go to this class,” he said.
“Oh c’mon! It’ll be fine.”
“I don’t want Chuck to sit next to me.”
“You be nice to him!”
“I will not be nice to him.”
“Yes you will!”
“Fine, I’ll just blatantly ignore him.”
“Oh please.”
“He’s a goober!”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t be nice.”
“I don’t want him talking to me. And I am not going canyoneering with him!”
“Okay, he’s a little off, and the whole canyoneering thing was kind of strange. But he’s sweet! He has a twinkle in his eye!”
“He’s a goober.”

Before we walked into the class, I put on a big smile and prepared to see my friends. I hadn’t seen Russell or Griff since the end of Fall semester. I missed them.

But when we walked into the door, my smile immediately changed to a stern German face with pursed lips and a glare. I didn’t recognize anyone. Russell and Griff weren’t there.

“Hey, Logan!” Spencer said, pleased to see his friend.
I followed Spencer to Logan’s seat in the back. They began to catch up, but I didn’t hear their conversation. I looked at the front of the class. There were a ton of girls. At least ten girls sitting in the front. They were grouped together and giggling and swooshing their hair back and forth and pulling it back into ponytails.

I swore under my breath.

People slowly came in and sat down, but not next to Spencer. Spencer put his backpack and jacket on the chair next to him. Chuck wasn’t there yet.

Finally Frau Blumbauer walked in. She glanced at the students and saw Mister Sport-hat sitting in front of me. Her eyes brightened.

“Hi, Alex!” she exclaimed.
“Hey Frau Blumbauer,” He said coolly.
“Did you get that scholarship?”
“Yes, I did! Thanks again for the recommendation!”

Dammit, I thought. She already has her favorite.

We went through the syllabus in English and finally began to speak in German about the German cultures.

One guy raised his hand. He gave a long (too long) explanation about the German culture. His German was perfect. I suspect his parents have spoken German to him since he was a child.

Minus one point for Anne.

Then Mister Sport-Hat raised his hand. Great accent.

Dammit.

The girl with long brown hair raised her hand and answered a question. Perfect grammar.

Uggggg.

By the end of the class I wanted to drop my head on the table and cut my eyes out.

I walked out of the class mumbling snarky comments about know-it-all German boy, Mister Sport-hat, and the giggling girls in the front.

“I’m not excited for this class anymore,” I said to Spencer.
“I actually feel a lot better about the class!” he said back. “The teacher is very organized, we’re going to watch movies. Logan will be there. The final exam doesn’t sound that hard…”

Sigh. Here we go, German 3560.

5 Comments


  1. You always think your behind everyone in German, but then your standing at the top shining by the end.


  2. What she said.


  3. Competition makes you stronger. Give’em hell.


  4. Anne, it doesn’t matter if your better than anyone… it only matters that you love the language and love learning about it.


  5. That’s right, Mira. That’s right.

    🙂

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