So, I fell out of a parked jeep Friday. It wasn?t such a big deal?mind you, it hurt like hell?but I survived.
The odd thing wasn?t me falling out of a jeep?I?ve been known to fall out my chair on more than one occasion?it was the fact that before I had even rolled over onto my back, I was surrounded by members of the U administration and medical staff.
President Bernie Machen jumped off his Harley, his face an odd shade of grey. As he clutched for the nearest medic, I heard him say, ?Quick, she?s all we?ve got on this campus! You?ve gotta do something!?
As the wind which was abruptly knocked out of me returned, I began contemplating his statement.
What the hell did he mean, ?I was all we had on campus?” There are 27,000 students on campus. I?m sure if one of them had fallen out of a jeep, he would probably be laughing his ass off.
I began to think about who I am?it was kind of one of those ?my whole life flashed in front of my eyes? experiences, except I knew I wasn?t about to die, and it happened after any threat of immanent doom?and I came upon some interesting facts.
I am a French-speaking Indian woman who is partially deaf in one ear, has a Sicilian mother, Scotch-Irish father and siblings from damn near every ethnicity.
As I laundry-listed these facts, an epiphany struck me in the form of a flash of pain from my newly formed concussion?I am the only person at the U who dares claim diversity.
A memory then hit me almost as hard as the pavement had. It was about two weeks ago when I had found myself being tailed by Machen and Dean of Students Stayner Landward.
I had been fighting off some major league nausea that had started shortly after eating up at Heritage Commons.
Anyway, I sat down amongst my all-white classmates, congratulating myself on being in the front row rather than the back, when my professor looked at me curiously.
?Are you feeling okay? You look as white as a ghost,? she said.
Immediately, Machen and Stayner jumped out of their seats and handed me a keg of chocolate milk.
?Chug! Chug! Chug!? they shouted in unison.
I stared at them, bewildered, as they shirked out the door.
By the time my concussion-addled brain returned to the present, Machen had put me on his Harley and was racing me toward University Hospital.
My only thought was ?Man, jeeps just aren?t made for brown people.?
Boy am I whooaa?
(Demelze fell off of her chair while finishing this story.)
Disclaimer: The Comical is pure satire and appears at the beginning of every week on The Chronicle?s Web site. Please take the stories as jokes and don?t call your lawyer. Thanks.