El mundo real

Thursday.
9.05 a.m.
Spanish.
'Wing Man' has entered the room.
As surreptitiously as he can.
This is the first sighting in 7 days of the rare and elusive animal that is the 'gurrier'.
He looks shifty.
Has the decency to blush.
And takes a seat in the corner near the door.

Our 'Hispanic Cultures' group project is due for submission tomorrow.
His contribution has been outstanding.
Almost ethereal.
In the 'intangible; impalpable; insubstantial; tenuous;' sense of the word.
Pulling together the final stages of our assignment has been pretty nightmarish.
The researchers in the team did not deliver.
We writers (there were 3 of us assigned to the task) consequently ended up pulling together our own research.
The final document, while quite well-written, is seriously lacking in references to source material.
'Wikipedia' just doesn't cut it.
However, this first of 3 assignments does not contribute to our module grades in the real world.
It is a 'dry run'.
It is merely practice for the subsequent 2.
Perhaps that is why 'Wing Man' and 'Lady Marmalade' just decided not to bother at all.

But then it dawns on me.
Maybe they are conserving their energies for assignments 2 and 3.
That must be it!
I can visualise them now.
In the library.
Unwashed. (There's just not enough time).
Uncoiffed. (A particular sacrifice for Lady Marmalade).
Grubby heads buried in text books.
Bags crammed with research notes.
Forward planning.
And all for the greater good of the team.

I feel ashamed.
Why was I so narrow-minded?
How could I have been so judgemental?
I metaphorically smack myself for my obvious prejudices.
And as Javier finishes the class with a cheerful '¡Hasta mañana!', I feel a surge of optimism that almost brings tears to my eyes.

Then I see 'Wing Man' making his hasty exit.
He doesn't seek me out at the end of class this time.
His departure is so speedy, he almost leaves a trail of dust behind him.

Reality bites.

©Alacoque Doyle