It is
difficult to
communicate with a person who
adamantly refuses to accept any idea that
contradicts her.
My friend was the last of our
trio to
plunk his identification card on the
counter of the university
health service. "
Student", he said.
The elderly
aide looked at him, then
peered over her glasses (like only an elderly woman does) at my other
colleague and I.
Being employed in a
research institute, it was
imperative that we obtain
licences to work with radioactive
substances, which is why we were there. My friend (we'll call him J) was a
graduate student in the lab, with the
fervent desire to leave after he had obtained his PhD.
The elderly aide (Auntie)
scrutinised at my other colleague and I (the
bona fide employees) before turning back to J.
"Staff", she
pronounced.
Naturally, he had to
protest against this
convenient label. J had no
intention of becoming a staff member until he reached 105.
"No, I'm a student."
(Another short pause followed this
assertion.)
"Ah, but you're staff, right?"
It was obvious that the
water had not
sunk deep. Some might say that the soil was
impervious to any attempts to inject even a little
moisture, as could be understood from the
exchange that followed.
Regarding the exchange that followed, I feel no obligation to
elaborate.
Suffice to say that Auntie was taking no
truck from a graduate student, who having arrived with two staff members, was very
firm with his
status as a "student, I'm a STEW-DENT."
It was
mostly more
amusing than
exasperating, and more exasperating than
teaching a fish to polevault.
In the end, a more
enlightened nurse came to our
rescue upon seeing that Auntie had made no
progress in
processing applications for the past five minutes. Auntie
grudgingly allowed that J was INDEED a student as he
claimed and the
world stopped laughing.