A KNOTTY AFFAIR

Two

" Please fill out these enrollment forms and collect your syllabus material from Cabin 3(A)."says an administration personnel to freshers gathered around his desk. That's the limited edition music singles titles should be for university anthems. By the look of his face, I can tell that with each form he's giving out, he's murmuring 'fuck yourself,cunt' under his breath. 

There isn't a day that passes by without me cringing to the sound of a coworker's voice or anything in general. It's always hard to spread kindness around, I'm out of fucks. 

After my class ended, I had to prepare myself for the so called chuckle-some discussion that must have already started in the conference room. They'll laugh by comparing generations on which one's dumb or dumber, what under graduates wore to class and other bullshit. As for me, I'll be a total snitch to talk behind their backs and yet,put up a sociable front. In short, it's very fucking mundane, isn't it? 

The staff room smells like infused collection of farts as I push the door open. Everyone's eating lunch, rambling over their send-to-sleep lives and their problems. Warm Vanilla colored walls, worn out ebony desks and chairs with a cheap comforter sums up it's facade.  

"This fellow asked me about the market's hottest trends today. I just said ' we don't do that here' and the entire lot started laughing hysterically." said Murray chuckling, chewing his tuna sandwich. 

Murray is like that one old softy who treats the entire faculty as a family. His half wrinkled face always lights up whenever people come to talk to him. Unlike other seniors, he's got shiny grey hair pushed back and tied in a loose tail and doesn't give a death stare if you forget to greet him. 

Murray's obsession with faith is what weirdly draws me to him. His accuracy on quenching the thirst of a validation seeker is what makes me want to hold onto him till I live here. Every-time the idea of becoming a hooker crosses my mind, Murray helps in spilling water all over it. 

I walk towards the the right of the hall and place my belongings on the desk. My worn out desk has a few postcards and pens on it. I usually stuff my drawers with filthy work related files. a clean desk helps me put up an organised front. On the contrary, it's also my mantra to keep my hassle at bay. Before these so called friendly staff members include me in their skull session, I take out my phone to keep myself faraway. 

Closing away various porn tabs and sexting sites, I look up to another set of laughs coming my way. " I'm sure you had a lovely day too, dear" Murray says, while lifting his lunch box to me. 

"Yes, I did. College students have insightful thoughts." said I, refusing to eat anything out of his lunch box. Normally, my classes have a 'high' intellectuals who believe in various conspiracies . Last year, I had a student who build up the whole theory about why people prefer eating ass. Like I said, very insightful. 

Murray passes a small smile before shrugging his shoulders and saying," It's a peanut butter and jelly." His box comes my way again which appears to have half a sandwich and some tissues on the corner.

" I'm not into peanut butter Murray. Thank you for offering!" I say hoping that he won't shove this down my throat. People here believe that it's important to ask twice or countless times, because it reflects how much you care for them. This should've been applicable in fucking your buddies. 

Wouldn't it be a turn on to hear a loud 'yes' every-time a good lover asked you to fuck him/her? 

I 'd be squirting all over this town in that case. 

Murray takes his box back and engages himself in his wholesome discussion about old college days and stories with the rest of desperate assholes. 

I just hope that this year the class gets sorted before events start to take place. It's a burden on my shoulders to make sure that these guys finish their monthly assignments before due dates. I sign. 

it's