C. FACULTY BRATS

The best excuse I ever got was from a faculty child. Always problems. This
one was about four days from graduation. I taught him every course I was assigned and my angel wings fluttered when grading his papers. I liked his Dad, and yet he’d missed my Monday exam, automatic failure by school policy.
I called him, his Dad, Mom and friends. No answer. I spotted him twice on campus, but seeing me, he fled.
Finally I cornered him. “Horsehead”, where were you?” I’ll never tell you. (Horsehead)
I’ll have to flunk you. (Me)
I understand. (Horsehead)
Come on son, I’m trying to help you here. (Me)
Okay, I’ll tell you, but you must never tell anyone. (Horsehead) Sure. (Me- lying again.)
So out it came. Seems his girlfriend was to go out of town. He was engaged to be married to her in one month.
She changed her mind, and went to Horsehead’s apartment. The door was locked, with another girl inside. The fiancé took action as described by “Horsehead”.
“Coach, she didn’t just knock the door open, she knocked the door off the frame. Have you seen her? (I had, she was “large”.) Once she got untangled she slapped the other girl around pretty good and tossed her out the doorframe. Then she turned to me. Coach she beat the living shit out of me and left. I pondered the fact that shortly I would marry a woman who could kick my ass. I got into my car. It was Sunday night late and I drove in a daze. A long lasting daze. When I sort of “came to my senses”, I was in downtown Lexington, Kentucky. I couldn’t make it back by 10:00 a.m., Monday.”
“Son”, I said, “You wouldn’t make that up. Come by my office at 3:00 p.m. for a “makeup” exam.” (B- , with extra credit for content.)

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