Word: vag
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Musingly, Vag turned the page of his new gray course catalogue, and began to cross Harvard Square. An indignant honking from two sides made him look up, and he took a quick jump to the middle of the road, where he shrunk to avoid the passing cars. A booming amplified voice reached his cars; it seemed to be asking questions of someone. "Where do you think you're running to? Can't you wait for the lights? Are you stupid?" Vag looked around him, and realized in terror that the odd catechism was directed at himself. But now the lights...
...Humanities 18 sounded promising: "This course attempts to sum up Western culture through the reading of three short French poems. They may be read in translation. Attention will be paid to the philosophical and sociological implications of the reading in the weekly lecture. Enrollment is limited to 600." Satisfied, Vag closed the book and ambled over to Holyoke House; he had always told himself that he ought to pick himself up culturally...
...General Education office was jammed, and Vag waited ahead of a heavy-set fellow in gray flannels, who also was clutching a course book tightly. "What are you signing up for?" he asked Vag. "Humanities 18." "Good course," the fellow said. "Culturally, I mean." When Vag got to the head of the line, the secretary said, "I'm sorry. Humanities 18 is closed. There's no point in even putting you on the waiting list." The other fellow's jaw dropped. "What can I take now?" he asked. Vag smiled, and opened his catalogue at random. "Here's a terrific...
With just the merest hint of deviltry in his roving eye, Vag waited for the big event of the day at Braves Field. It was Reading Period, but so what! Encased in his now rather shoddy seersucker jacket, with a Chesterfield protruding not at all jauntily from his mouth, he waited while a man in a double-breasted suit walked onto the field. Today, of all things foolish, they were going to raffle off a '47 Packard, and what was more silly, he was waiting around on the hope that he would win it. Of course he never won anything...
Finally after a lot of talking and shaking hands, someone started drawing the ticket stubs out of a bowl, and Vag found himself sitting forward in his seat. But someone else won, and there was a short, disappointed burst of applause. The girl gave him an "I told you so" look, and stalked away, while Vag ambled with the crowd through the exit and toward the bridge. Raffles were pretty good, he said to himself after a little consideration. Even if you didn't win, there was the excitement. And that was one thing that Harvard lacked, excitement...