College Style :: Education Writing Language Essays

College StyleI was sitting at the bar on my favorite bar s besidesl drinking a rather ridiculous bottle of domestic beer. The sun was glaring off the snow on the outside world. It was dark inside, how I liked it. It was a time to need my thoughts, a time to think the world out in a rational matter, it was time to think of an expository writing assignment. As I sat there peering through the beer glass watching the reflections off the irrigate down beer that appeared now more like a glass of corrupt water, I noticed a few guys come in that were in my Marxist philosophy class. I waived my hand in that nice to teach ya kind of gesture and they sat down beside me. I was a turn nervous but the courage I had from the first four beers was devising me more at ease. These were the smart kids. There were four in all, devil girls, two guys. They adjoin me around the bar. I began to sweat and drips of dew dropped down on to the hard plastic bar that had held up my head so galore(postnom inal) times before. Id read their papers before. I realized they were the smart kids when rendition their papers, I didnt understand what they were saying. Sure, some of the ideas were familiar but the general concepts of their papers were so ahead of my bedledge for the written word that the meaning was gone. was outright I was sitting among them, in a circle, a circle of knowledge. I was embarrassed that I was sitting amongst the greatest minds of the upper-Midwest drinking from a defile glass with nothing more then a domestic beer. I quickly finished the drink and motioned to the bartender. Sir, I cried, as only a intellectual could, bring me a chardonay, spare no expense with the pretzels, and bless yourself ten percent. I was pleased at my request. Certainly I would perish in now. In class the smart kids always spoke in such a manner unlike any dialect that I had known before. When the addressed the professor they used words that I didnt know existed, I flew for my dicti onary but by then it was always too late. I would try to fit in this time. I swung my chair towards the semi-circle that had surrounded me. I crossed my legs as only poets and small boys can do and grinned at them.