“Figures,” he thought as he sat down into one of the stereotypical hard plastic chairs that filled the room. A small fake wooden desk attached to the chair for him to use for note taking hung to the side of this seat.
Other people began to file into the squarish room taking seats all around him. The annoyingly active A students taking their seats in the front row nearest to the professor, the ones who didn’t care about the class taking the back row, etc… You could really almost type each person as they came in and found the seat that best fit them.
He found himself in the 4th row of 5 and on the farthest outside seat. This way he could leave quickly after class and was sitting far enough back so that he only had to mildly pay attention to the actions of the lecturer. A small hope filled him, wanting this class to not be as bad as everyone said it would be.
In walked the professor. An average sized man with nothing distinctive aside from a white mustache. He began to lecture and the man’s hopes were shattered. This lecturer was just that, talking the whole time without a change in emotion or even tone. On and on through the ages of Latin America but never breaking out of a preset monotone depiction of the world.
Boredom set in and slowly ate away the will for the man to want to learn from this boring professor. It became a game of staying awake the 50 minute lectures and the professor would pretend that he didn’t notice the man playing on his IPad.