"This is very creative," said Mrs. Fretag, and she began to read my essay. The words sounded good to me. Everybody was listening. My words filled the room, from blackboard to blackboard, they hit the ceiling and bounced off, they covered Mrs. Fretag's shoes and piled up on the floor. Some of the prettiest girls in the class began to sneak glances at me. All the tough guys were pissed. Their essays hadn't been worth shit. I drank in my words like a thirsty man. I even began to believe them. I saw Juan sitting there like I'd punched him in the face. I stretched out my legs and leaned back.
"I can see that you read my essay closely. Iappreciate the fact that you were so thorough. It helps to have someone whois both objective and analytical like yourself read it as opposed to myparents who would invariably say 'That's great!' I know to take thoseendorsements with a grain of salt."
Read My Essay - College Confidential