My hair was frizzy, but I was positive. A class at the mall? In high school, a dream come true. Why would college be any different?
The University of South Florida is so crowded that it holds some classes in the Regal Cinemas at University Mall.
To earn a degree and remain employed by the news media, a required class at the mall was my final destination.
My lousy sense of direction parked me far from the movie theaters, forcing me to pass approximately 685 pairs of shoes I wanted to take home. Thankfully, my inner bookkeeper spoke of something called self-control.
In front of the theater, a sign read "USF CLASSES" with an arrow pointing down. Super. With the theater entrance gated, it appeared I had to teleport to the lower level. Rather than find the nearest tractor beam, I followed the horde of scowling 20-somethings lugging JanSports.
Down the concrete stairs my boot heel caught my jeans, which are meant for someone tall, namely, not me. I caught my balance. The gentleman behind me found it funny.
My hair frizzed some more.
Downstairs, a woman stood directing the confused, and now, unattractive students to the correct classes. Mine was the one flashing Lord of the Rings above the door.
I prayed to the cosmos, which by now clearly hated me, that Elijah Wood's face might be on the screen, and this was all a big joke.
But no Frodo. Just a sea of teal seats and padded purple walls, an early '90s designer fantasy. And some 300 students.
If this had been a hot date, with popcorn, a boyfriend, a 400-ounce diet soda and a romantic comedy, I wouldn't have minded the closeness. That's what movies are for. But this was supposed to be school. Every time I moved my leg or arm, it meant saying "sorry" to the guy on my left.
The syllabus was shown on the movie screen, making the words look like sugar ants crossing the Sahara. I read my hard copy and focused on the gum lacquered to the chair in front of me.
Later, we were told of "boards" in a nearby closet on which to take our essay tests. I was hoping for free Junior Mints during tests, but you can't win them all.
Back at the car, I checked my face for battle scars. My hair had formed a new cowlick, and some brown eye shadow mysteriously made its way to my chin. I was horrified.
A student movie ticket is $5.25. Tuition for class is $290.85, plus $22.50 for theater use. And that doesn't even include Elijah Wood.
