Animal Fries

There's not much in life I hate more than math and science. I've successfully proved wrong every high school math teacher who told me I would have to take math in college. But science-- I had to suffer through two whole classes. Astronomy (AKA naptime) and a class entitled, "Life of the Past," which I naturally assumed was about cavemen. Heck yeah! I wanna learn about cavemen!

Boy was I DEAD WRONG.

I ended up in a "Historical Geology" class trying to memorize things like which type of tetropods have bony girdles, the name of rocks formations exposed during the Davinian period, and the anatomy of a craton.

My professor, bless his heart, LOVES what he teaches. Loves it so much, naturally he wants all his students to love it too, by jamming it down their throats and subjecting them to meticulously tough grading. Needless to say, that man and his anti-caveman class destroyed my GPA.

So here I am a year and a half later, eating dinner alone, poking a big fatty pile of In-N-Out Animal Style fries. And there appears Mr. Historical Geology in all his boring glory, like a walking nightmare of semesters past.

He doesn't recognize me, but he sure is intrigued by my french fries. How did I get them like that? What are they called? Why aren't they on the menu? How much do they cost? What exactly are the ingredients?

His voice brought me back to painful droning lectures that felt endless. I remembered how it was the worst experience of my college career, and how much I hate rocks.

But we didn't talk about rocks. We talked about french fries.

"They're really unhealthy," I said.
"Yeah well, everything here is unhealthy," he said.

And I realized something. Historical Geology sucks. But really, any science class would have sucked just as much. And at the end of the day, I survived.

Ironically, I didn't even like the animal fries. And as unhealthy and undelicious as they were, I survived those too.