Jean C. Ortiz Calderón November 18th, 2014

INGL3238 M25

The box

The big round mid-aged man in front of me was sweating all over his reddened forehead

while attempting to connect his prehistoric computer to the newly installed projector; I seriously

doubt Windows Vista will work nowadays. But apparently PhD’s do not include a thorough

manual on how to work technology; that or my pretentious professor didn’t mind spending a

good fifteen minutes every single class to complain why the computer wasn’t cooperating or

even how our University policy affected in his ordeal with the projector. Most of us rolled our

eyes to the professor but the girl with the long straightened cobalt hair sitting in front of me,

Roxanne I think her name was, adjusted her humongous breasts to show as much as she could

without being considered indecent exposure. This went on for some weeks, however on a chilly

Monday, while she was pushing the boundaries of her tight button up shit the door to the

classroom slowly creaked. “What the he…”. A guy in his twenties entered our busy room with at

least thirty of us staring in awe and Roxanne almost yanking off her paddings, because he was

butt naked with a huge cardboard box covering his genitalia. “Mr. would you care, I’m trying to

fix this broken machine”, the professor said without looking at the strange guy. Were it not

because some strange crimson fluid was slowly creeping out of the box’s crevices we would all

be laughing at the whole butt naked guy in front of us. Also, the fair skinned guy had these big

blue eyes reddened with distress. I felt my stomach sinking in with sudden guilt and I got up to

help him but just when I was about to pass over Roxanne the professor looked at me and

interrupted: “What manner of disrespect is this young man, can’t believe youth these days…”.

He kept on going but his voice trailed off because the poor guy started to wail, tears streaming

down his cheeks with furious force. I have been moving without me paying attention and I was

in front of this guy holding a box filled with what smelled like sweet, a drop of that purpled

liquid escaped its confinement and struck the white tile with such force time stopped for a

second. “What kind of sick joke is this?”, the professor said while getting up from the his desk in

the side of the wall. The whole room fell silent. Mr. Snow got between me and the guy with the

box and with his enormous right hand struck the box to the floor where dozens of mashes grapes

stained the whole floor. Instantly I took off my overcoat and put it around the bedazzled guy

completely naked to cover him up. “Take him outside, now!”, demanded Snow with his whole

face reddened with anger. “CLICK!”. The shutter of Roxanne’s camera went off and while the

professor shouted some more me and the nameless guy went outside to the hallway. Fortunately

it was quite early and no one was around. I tried my best to comfort him and carefully started

with, “What’s your name?” He replied readily: “I’m Steven, you?” I was dumbfounded because

he was standing straight, leaning against the grey wall while fixing his hair and wiping off his

face; he must’ve seen my half opened mouth in disbelief when he cheerily started to explain that

it was all an act, a part of some acting class project. “…and thank you man, you were the only

one who got up to help me”. Unbelievable, I said to myself, just before Steven disappeared into

some stairs down the hallway I cracked up laughing realizing the whole thing, “Well,

undoubtedly you’re better than Kristen Stewart”. He flashed me an honest smile, “I’ll keep the

coat for today if that’s alright”. I replied deviously, “Yeah, bring it to me next time you show up

dressed like the little mermaid.”