Cogs can think.

I ended my previous entry in the Social Life category with these words: “In a few moments, we’ll go drinking. Looking forward to it.”

And by golly, did we have us a jolly good time. I’ll pick out the best scene. It’s a classic Thom-action.

We were discussing one of our professors. He is a total dick. For no apparant reason at all, he has decided that I, Marco, Marloes and Levi are not to be tought properly. He has stated multiple times that he does not like us. According to him, we are not worthy of being in university (maybe I should tell the dickhead how I did Latin/Greek school without failing one single year)(or how I did reasonably well with Psychology for two years (if you leave out Statistics, that is)), and what not. He had already expelled me from his course. Now Marco is off too. And Marloes is close too. But I digress.

No, I’m not digressing. I need to tell you about the red-haired girl. There’s this red-haired lady in the course I got expelled from. From day one, it was apparant that the prof. didn’t like me and the rest of the guys, so he didn;t help us at all. But he was helping the red-haired lady. But, there’s thing she has. I dunno what, but she has this something, I don’t know what. Anyway. Now I am digressing.

Back to the pub. It’s the pub in the middle of my university’s main building. I was drinking with Nancy, Marco, Martin and Sarieke. Sarieke was about to leave. Right then, I got a txt msg from Marloes, in which she explained she might also get expelled. In total frustration, I read the txt msg aloud, and after that, I said: “It just ain’t fcuking fair, he keeps beating us [I’m now pointing out myself and Marco] down to the ground, yet he keeps on helping people like that rad-haired girl!” I said it, accidentally, in such a way that it seemed as if I was blaiming the poor red-haired lady. After I said that line, Martin’s face tightens. I look towards Marco. He says…

“Dude… She’s sitting right behind you…”

Shit. She really sat there. I looked at her big smile for exactly a tenth of a second, before looking at the guys and Nancy again. Sarieke just walked out. I turn my head again, and I’m looking down into the red-haired lady’s face– she came up to our table. Then, with a slight smile on her face, cigarette in one hand, staring me straight into the eyes, she spoke the words which we will never forget:

“So, what’s up with me?”

Muchos respectas. I explained. She laughed. I am really grateful for being talkative. Sometimes.