canta, no llores

"You can really be in a state of constant mourning if you hold onto your ideas." -Andrew Bird

It was three fifty-six as I walked up to room 121 of the Jesse Knight Building, after a long day of music, science, and psychological experiments. I had greatly anticipated this moment every since I saw the flyer at the Humanities showcase almost two weeks ago. It was one of the first appointments I had written down in my brand new Freshman Orientation specialized planner. No one was outside the door. I tentatively pulled on the handle and peered down the aisle toward the front of the room. There seated in the first row were three students, two plain looking Caucasian girls and one skinny boy sitting up quite straight with dark spiked hair. Sitting at a table in front was a fiftysomething year old woman with soft white hair, leaning over a stack of old books looking bored. I walked up to the front of the room asking if this was, indeed, Spanish Choir. "Yep!" answered the smiley boy. He introduced himself as Jonathon, and the girl sitting next to him with a complicated purple design on her skirt told me her name was Johanna. "I'm Claire," I responded. The professor studied me a minute and asked if I spoke Spanish. I told her I had taken a few years in high school. "Are you majoring in it?" asked Johanna.

"No," I answered, "I just don't want to lose my Spanish, and I thought this would be fun."

"Yeah, I'm majoring in Spanish, and I just happened to walk by and see that this was going on."

"Yeah, I just happened to be on campus.."

The professor sighed.

"Well, this isn't going to work. We are going to need at least eighteen to twenty people for this to be a real class."

I must've looked alarmed.

"Can we make it a class?" I asked hastily.

The second Caucasian girl at the end of the row looked over at me with a strange look on her face.

The professor looked skeptical of the whole situation. "No, I don't think that's going to work."

The German choir next door trudged through the middle section of "Die Wollust En Den Maeien", a piece my chamber choir had disdained in high school.

The narrative ends here. Basically, there's no Spanish Choir.