You do all that, and then . . . no one shows up. No one. Not the overeager foreign exchange students, not the part-time weed dealers you weren’t count on seeing anyway, not the inviting co-eds who may have been inspiration for all aforementioned ear-hair trimming. You stand at the front of the room, gaze across the open rows of chairs while stroking your velvet patches, and you fume.
And then you do what every marginally-frustrated person does these days: You find the nearest keyboard and you let it rip.
And so it was with this unknown college professor so clearly offended by a roomful of no-shows on Day 1 of his class. Here’s the email he sent his new students: