Our lovely teacher, Mr. Colbert, is kind enough to draw the inner networks of computers on the blackboard and wipe it with the same dirty wet sponge every time. Because of that sponge, everything is very fluid, than he immediately writes over it so he doesn’t waste time and as a result, the chalk becomes wet. Invisible. Asking him to wait for it to dry does not work, he prefers to wipe it back in front of us.
So yes, it’s true, a big problem in the computer lab is the absence of computers and board sweepers.
Enough! I can’t stand it anymore.
I boldly decide to go to the secretariat. During the break, I storm in, half possessed of pent-up anger:
‘Will you please get me a decent board wiper, or else just pop me.’
I now take my glasses and hold them right in front of the nose of the man behind his desk.
‘My glasses have already dropped from -2 to -4 after five lessons!’
After this slumming and forceful plea, the corny man picks up his eyeballs, straightens slowly and opens the lock of a heavy metal cabinet. There lies one more board sweep. Reluctantly he approaches, takes my hand firmly and pushes the sweeper in. He raises his raspy voice.
‘Bring it back later because otherwise they’ll steal it … It’s the only one we still have.’
Proudly, I walk into the classroom and place it on the desk. He looks at the strange thing in front of him for a moment and without glancing at me, I hear a short ‘thank you’.
A moment later he stands there in the dust, a grey mist hovers around him. The sweeper refuses to work properly. He turns and looks at me with a scathing look.
‘Just pay attention, there are people here who will have to try hard on their examination.’
Fuck, where do I find a contract killer?
Fastfood romantics 
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