A Most Lamentable Tragedy

Yesterday, a guy asked for my number.

Now, before you get excited, you should realize that this occurrence isn’t as uncommon as you might think. Granted, I don’t have a boyfriend and have never been on a date, but I have my share of admirers. They compliment me, seek me out, occasionally proclaim undying devotion, and offer gifts ranging from chocolate (sugar-free, of course) to flowers to dinner. One even offered to name his firstborn after me. All these guys are really after one thing, though: my prowess with a pen.

My editing skills, grammar knowledge, and sheer awesomeness seem to draw far more male admirers than female admirers. I know students who will refuse to visit anyone else in the writing center (a practice which I do not encourage). Granted, several of these guys have become genuine friends, and I never mind when they show up with their papers and stay for an hour. Others, however, are just frustrating in their devotion…or clinginess.

I suppose it’s a hazard of my job that I tend to get semi-hit on by teenagers looking to improve their English grades. I’ve become a pro at rebuffing their requests to help them edit their papers at times other than when I’m in the writing center (“Can I get our number in case I have a question later?” or “What if I need you, and you’re not in the writing center?”–yeah, I get those questions). It’s a shame that the only guys who’ve been asking for my number lately are about 6 years too young for me–and annoying.

To W.C.: A Lament

The good professor Hendrix is hosting yet another contest that pits the writing center instructors against one another. Last time, in the art contest, my “Grammar Superheroes” entry won me a coloring book and crayons. I hope to be as successful this time around, in the poetry contest.

And so, for your reading pleasure, my latest contribution (picture Julie Andrews and some hideous green curtains):

Cramps in my knuckles
And ink stains on fingers
Really long papers
That student who lingers
All of these problems that each student brings–
These are a few of my most dreaded things.

They bring comma errors
And very poor spelling.
A misplaced modifier
Makes me feel like yelling.
All of these problems that each student brings–
These are a few of my most dreaded things.

When the verb disagrees,
And they use no apostrophes,
And passive voice must not be had,
I simply remember that Christmas break is coming,
And then I don’t feel so bad!