“Stupid” by Toad the Wet Sprocket from Dulcinea
"This isn't good," she murmured, looking over the paperwork.
"Right, like I said, I was disappointed," I replied, ringing my hands just out of her view.
"Not good," she reiterated.
I nodded, "So what does that mean?"
"That you did badly."
"That I did badly?" I repeated, processing what she was saying.
"Would we say quite?" I questioned before pulling myself away from that distraction, "No, I mean, I know I did badly. I mean what does that mean for me going forward."
"Right, well, I figured."
She finally peered up over the papers, her green eyes enlarged slightly by her glasses. I was struck by the intensity of their color.
After a moment of studying me, she replied, "I'm sorry, what's the question then?"
I sighed. I did not need this when I was already feel like an idiot. Part of me wondered if perhaps I had also lost the ability to speak my native tongue as well as the rest of my previous intellectual skill.
"I mean, after doing badly, what happens?"
"Umm...about what to do next? What to do now? Who should I speak to, what does this mean for my position, are their fines, do I have to do it all over."
"Oh," she said with a single nod. Then nothing.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
"Sooo," I tried.
She shrugged, dropping the papers. "Oh god, she's younger than me. She's gonna tell me to pack up my desk and she's younger than me. I'm not old enough to be kicked to the curb by younger people! My dad is barely old enough for that."
"Did you actually look at your scores?" she questioned, cocking her head.
"I did. Yes. Like I said, bad. Not good. Quite bad. Whatever it was you said."
"And you compared it to the rubric?" she continued, a smirk teasing at the corners of her lips. I felt myself go hot with a mix of embarrassment and anger.
"Rubric?" I almost hissed.
"Yes," she purred in reply, pulling out a piece of paper from a folder in the bottom drawer of her desk.
She pushed it across the space to me and elaborated, "Yes. You use it to interpret your scores."
"Right. Yes. I know," I shot back quickly, "Wait, no. What is this?"
The smirk broke free. "Take a look."
I spun the paper around and scanned it.
"Ho-hol-hold on," I stuttered, "Does this mean--?"
"But you said--"
"Well, you said, actually. I just had a bit of fun."
"It may be because I have a really boring job and I need to keep myself busy," she offered.
"That's so fuc--"
She interrupted me, "Or maybe I just have an endearingly odd way of flirting. You know, a real quirky personality and sense of humor."
"Oh. That's...I mean...I think yo--"
"Or it could be that I've sent you and your team no less than eight emails reminding you all to not take the raw score but to use the rubric to interpret. Eight. So maybe after 10 of you came to me freaked out over this I decided that I deserved a laugh. That may be it."
I snapped my jaw closed. It hurt.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm, going to lunch."
And off she went, an undeniable bounce in her sadistic sarcastic stride.
Well now I really felt like an idiot.