The RYS post I'll never send

This is a draft of a post that's been sitting in my queue for a long time, and since I know I will never teach public speaking at this place again, I suppose now is the time to post it. Enjoy.

Dear Arrogant Coat-tail rider -

Yes, you. The charming one. Or the other charming one. Either of you. I'm sure when you walked into class that first day and flashed your charming smile at me, you thought you had me in your pocket. But you haven't been around long enough to realize that someone like me has seen your kind before, and I know what you're all about.

I know that the smiles, and the jokes, even the compliments, have all worked on the past, especially as you work your way through the bar, practicing on all the young hotties the lines you're going to use for your debut on Keys to the VIP, but I'm no longer a young hottie. And I saw you coming a mile away.

Your descriptions of the palatial home your parents live in and the expensive cars they've bought you are awe inspiring and I'm sure they work well on the cocktail circuit. But in the classroom, they don't go over so well.

Have you ever taken the time to get to know some of the other students in the class? Do you know about the guy who sits in the row behind you, runs off to work a full-time shift right after class and whose student loan payment hasn't arrived yet? Or the single mother who runs into class just as it starts because she's had to wait for her ex to come pick up their child so she can attend? Do you think about them when you complain about how you're driving a loaner because the beamer's in the shop? Or when you breeze in ten minutes late because you didn't want to rush through your expensive lunch downtown?

Your speech in which you gave detailed descriptions about all the properties and cars your family owned went over like a lead balloon. But I don't think you noticed. How could you? You only had eyes for you.

While I'm asking questions, can I ask one about your writing? Why is it that no matter what the topic, you manage to find yourself inserting a paragraph about how rich your folks are and how hard it is for you living in the apartment they paid for without mom to cook for you like she used to? Is there nothing else in that pretty little head of yours, or is that the only thing you ever think about? It's getting a bit monotonous I must say. I keep telling you it isn't interesting, or even relevant to the assignment, but you don't seem to be paying attention.

I am curious about your parents though. I wonder how much they know about your life, and why they continue to pay your bills? Does the charm work on them? Do you just lie to them most of the time so they don't know that you're pissing away their money by failing all your classes? Or do they just not care? Now, THAT I'm curious about. But whether your beamer's in the shop? I could care less.


Dear Odious Orator -

I know you're much to smart to be taking this class, which is why you've applied to take the proficiency exam in order to bypass taking it. I know you're too good to sit through the 14 weeks of class like everyone else, and I'd never dream of imagining I could teach you anything new if you did come to class.

Several months ago when I gave you several dates when you could come in and deliver the speech component of your proficiency exam, I expected you would choose one in good time and we would make the necessary arrangements. I never realized that your fabulously fun-filled life would make it impossible for you to call until this week. Calling me three times in the last two days demanding to know which days are available next week for your performance might seem like a great idea on your part, but the reason your bright idea looks so dim from here is because that privileged little head of yours is very far up your ass.

The rest of the students in the class have planned ahead, delivered their speeches on time and we've kept to the very tight schedule we've been given this year. But of course we'll chuck it all to the wind to make sure you can present next week before the break. I'll also be sure to mark your performance within an hour of your delivery so that there's no delay in getting you the mark you so richly deserve.

Far be it from me to stand in the way of someone so obviously good at communicating that you have no need to learn anything about the difference between a friendly and a hostile audience.