Missed That Period

(First thing in the morning on a Tuesday, I have a two-hour lecture with a professor that everyone hates; if you arrive even seconds after him, he marks you late. I’m never usually late, but today I was unfortunate to be a whole hour behind — with very good reason.)

Me: *tries to come in as unobtrusively as possible from the back of the hall*

Professor: “Nice of you to join us, [My Name]. Let’s hear the excuse.”

Me: “You really don’t want to know.”

Professor: “No, I do.”

Me: “Seriously, don’t ask.”

Professor: “You’re an hour late. You can tell me why you’re late or I can mark you absent.”

(Three absences is an automatic fail and I’m utterly terrified of doing so. I was also extremely tired after being up most of the night finishing a paper so my filter was gone.)

Me: “Fine! I woke up this morning drenched in blood!”

Professor: *realises he has made a terrible mistake*

Me: “So rather than being able to just get up and go, I had to strip my bed and put my sheet, mattress protector, and duvet cover — because it got in there too — in a bucket of salt water with my pyjamas. Then I had to scrub the mattress with bathroom cleaner, because that has bleach in it, to get the stain off there. THEN I had to shower to get the blood off me! So by the time I was done I missed my regular bus and now I’m late! Happy?!”

(The room is silent. Most of the boys (and my professor) are looking at me in horror. Conversely, most of the girls are looking at me like I’m some sort of Messiah.)

Professor: “Okay… You.. Uh… You sit down and… feel better…”

(He’s never hassled another student like that again — especially the girls.)