It's the silly season

At dinner on Thursday evening after work, in an Indian restaurant next to the university, we talked about work, as usual. I had been testing students again, and was feeling rather discouraged. We all were. It's that end of semester.

I told my colleagues about my plan to have my students writing lines next year. One of them came up with a more creative idea.

"Electrified chairs!" he said. "We would have little buttons on our podium, and whenever we heard one of the offending mistakes we would hit the button. They'd learn REALLY FAST, I reckon. It wouldn't need to be a big zap."

One of the guys started acting out how this might work.

"I went to shopping," he said, woodenly, and leaped out of his seat. "AARRGH!"

A couple of others joined in.

"What do you like music?" one asked. "ERK!"

"How many families do you have? OOOOH!"

A group of students wandered into the restaurant, and stared in amazement as respectable, middle-aged teachers erupted from chairs screaming and clutching their bottoms. After watching for a few seconds they walked out again, and I don't think it was only because there was only one small table free.

I think they were worried that the curry might be too hot for them.