Every day, without fail, we see the remains of what the professor of the class before us wrote on the board. Not because the professor forgot to erase the board, mind, but because the chalk was bad and refused to erase. Dr. Wiseman insisted that there was a way to tell if the chalk was bad (short of writing on the board and seeing if it would erase), so he started bringing his own chalk to class. We as a class started our plan to figure out who the professor was so we could gift them with a box of new chalk. It was an economics class, we could tell, thanks to the material that remained even after writing line integrals and complex derivatives over it.
Fast forward to Friday. Rose was standing outside the classroom when I arrived, and I peeked inside. Several people were sitting at desks, taking a test. We didn't go in for fear of interrupting them, instead choosing to wait for them to finish. Finally the rest of the class gathered outside the door, still waiting for the people inside to leave. Dr. Wiseman showed up and just went inside, setting up.
"Is this everyone?" someone asked after all five of us were standing outside and no one showed any sign of leaving.
"Yeah," I replied. So we opened the back door to the classroom and walked in silently, one behind another, and took our seats in the front row. No one budged. I looked to the front of the room, where Dr. Cunningham, an economics professor, was standing at the front of the room.
"I'm going to have to take your tests in one minute," she said. Everyone from her class handed her their tests and left. "So what class is this?" she asked us.
"Complex variables," Dr. Wiseman replied. We then found out that she had taken a lot of math, but sadly, no abstract algebra. When I asked why (of course I would!), she replied that she had gotten this far without it. Tear.
At least we know who the chalk goes to now.