*THAT* Student

11 10 2011

As an eternal student I have become accustomed to the genres of fellow students within lectures and tutorials.

Initially this was to be a blog on *THAT* Mature Student but to do so in isolation would be to deny my lucky readers of my observations of other irritating specimens.

This week, and remember it’s only Tuesday, has been full of them. From the retired doctor who talks to himself throughout the lectures while grumping,growling and whooping inappropriately to those who believe lectures are the perfect opportunity to gossip about who is shagging who.

There is always *that* mature student who questions everything being said, yet fails to grasp the important elements being taught to us, while confusing the rest of the class in the process. But my last tutorial had me seriously biting my Tongue at someone who was about to experience the grumpy hat wrath… And believe me it takes a lot to unleash that beast.

I shall call him Tarquinius Andronicus-Smythe III for if that isn’t his name it bloody well should be!

Tarquinius, tarquin for short has obviously had the restricted social experience of boarding school, in a cave, with only one student (him), where tutors are helicoptered in, to teach him skills such as interrupting, questioning, correcting, talking out of turn, talking non stop and self entitlement. Oh, I forgot Latin too.

Now tarquin is obviously highly gifted, dare I say his brain is a vileda superdooper mop from the 25th century.

This however appears to be his first foray into a world with proles. He’s a friendly enough chap, if you bypass his inherent sense of intellectual and aristocratic superiority, but he is likely to helicopter home and bathe in arse-milk (!) and dettol daily, after his experience with us commoners.

Tarquin is convinced, much like *that* mature student, that the 15-20 prole strong tutorial is in fact a one-to-one for him. You can see him occasionally hark back to his days in a cave, with a sentimental inward guffaw. Proles don’t dare speak in his supreme presence. This is where the lord grants his peasants an audience but they sit passively while his sponge is utilised to full effect.

Now tarquin doesn’t quite grasp the concept of the tutor, first year student relationship. As he is so obviously intellectually superior he feels that it is necessary to correct the tutor on all manner of irrelevant points. A tutorial question that should take less than 5 minutes to discuss turns into a 40 minute debate on a different area of the law as it suits tarquin better to discuss such concepts.

He corrects the tutor on his translation of a Latin legal term. How ridiculous that a bourgeois academic would not know his quod from his quo or the correct grammatical structure to the phrase.

How ridiculous that in a property law tutorial, the only one prior to the exam next week, such a bourgeois underling may want to discuss principles relating to the exam and not the section of the law that tarquin fancies on a whim.

Now I’m sorry but Tarquin, or whatever the fuck he’s called is a prick. *That* mature student pales into insignificance with his grasping wrong concepts compared to Mr expectation and talk only about what I want to.

Of course there may be neurological reasons for tarquin’s obvious sponge memory and self centredness, I would be the last to be able comment on social interactions, if this weren’t so fucking annoying.

In the end I left, one hour into the one hour tutorial having covered not quite half of the topics. I’ll go to another, beg to be let into their class. I don’t doubt Tarquin will be a judge by the time he gets to his honours years but fuck sake, he can do it away from me.





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