On the way over, I pull up to a red light, and the car does something it’s never done before, something not good. The RPMs drop, it starts to sputter and choke. I’ve seen this behavior before, when I drove old beaters, so without thinking I react, slap it in park. I can’t remember what the cause of it is, though.
The RPMs come back up and smooth out, but then climb to about 2500. Yeah, that’s what I expected, but I still can’t remember what horrible thing is going on under the hood. I kick the accelerator down, thinking “sticky throttle?”, but knowing as soon as the thought comes that this isn’t the problem.
The RPMs come back to where they should be, and the engine settles down, back to its normal hum. I’m talking to my car, my baby. “Please, not today. I love you. I love you more than my wife. You’ve never given me a problem that was your fault. Please.”
(More misery below the fold)
The light turns green and I put her in drive, and she’s happy all the way to the college. Until I pull into the parking spot. Then she does the exact same thing, and I can’t remember the cause.
Ok, no matter. She got me here. I’ll worry about it after the exams. I kiss the dashboard and head for student services. I’m early, but not as early as I had planned. There’s no line at all. That’s strange, I’d been expecting one. Maybe the exams aren’t there, but elsewhere on campus. I roam a little bit, but don’t see anyone queued up anywhere.
Oh right, tomorrow’s Independence Day. I’ve probably just hit it right. Still, I’m a little uneasy. I wait for the doors to open at eight, and head in. I hand in my application, so that it’s in their hands and they don’t have time to lose it before the exams.
“Have you done the other things on the list? The exams and all?” Something in her voice sets me to worrying again.
“No. I came today to take them. I guess the line’s too long to get in today by now, huh?” I don’t want to tell her that I’m an idiot who just assumed they’d be … y’know… in the admissions office.
“No, actually. There’s only one other person here so far.” She nods over at the teenager and her mom and little brother on the couches.
The proctor has come to the desk and is filling out some forms and without looking up says, “No, you’re fine! We’ll get you all taken care of in just a minute, plenty of room. I just need to do something first.”
Hey, cool! ‘tsall good. I take a seat, and the lady comes over, having forgotton to give us our numbers. It’s a little square laminated card, mine with a “2” on it (because I’m second in line, duh), and says to give it to the proctor when going in for the exam.
Then she heads off in the direction the proctor went.
We wait there a few minutes, little brother fidgeting, teenager patient but obviously edgy, mom reading a magazine.
The lady comes back. “I’m so sorry to you and you,” she says nodding her head at each of us two in turn. “We’re not giving the tests on Thursdays now. Here’s the new schedule.”
Shit. I have to laugh, though.
From whence came the art:
That image it titled Laugh-Out-Loud Cats #539, by Ape Lad, and is licenced under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 license.