Not really awkward sounding, but the best I got.

At my college, there is a hang-out room for students in the honors program. As a newb freshman with no honors classes this semester, I didn't discover the lounge on my own - my friend J was kind enough to show me where it was.

As an honors student with no honors classes, I really didn't know the ropes of the program. My friend, the Music Man, was kind enough to show me where the honors hang-out room (classified as a "study area") was. He had to go talk to the adviser in the next room, so I sat down and was waiting for him in this room for honored people with hard classes. I felt like a fraud.

Due to my boredom and ill ease, I started to look around the room and noticed a whiteboard entitled the "Wall of Quotes". Hmm. As I began to peruse the mix of Nietzsche, Chomsky, and the bloke who sits next to me in English class, a girl flounces down into the chair across from me and surveys the Wall. "Ugh. Why are all the Nietzsche quotes lame?" Now, I was pretty sure that I was not being addressed, due to my fraudulent status as a student with a non-honors class workload. So I pretended to ignore her, while looking around the room, trying to avoid eye-contact, and desperately wishing that the Music Man didn't need to talk to advisers, especially of the honors variety, ever.

But then she went on. "And that Banksy quote - who quotes Banksy?"
And that crossed a line in my soul. This quote - "Sometimes I feel so sick at the state of the world I can't even finish my second apple pie." was wonderfully cynical and relevant. Besides, Banksy's work is just amazing. I rose up in protest, against this girl and her opinions, against snobby attitudes and opinions, and against the existence of honor lounges. I created an eloquent protest, citing the problem of globalization of crass consumerism, of world wide poverty, of apathy. I stood on my soap-box and let this spout of bourgeoisie origin have it. or something like that.

"Banksy's cool."

She turned her beady eyes on to me, (Ahhh! Eye contact with an actual honors student! They'll find out and disappear me into a secret room in the library!) and stared at the strange girl who dared to have an alternate opinion to her disdain.

"Did you write that?"

I looked at the floor, but it didn't seem to be swallowing me into a pit of doom. Yet.
It seems as though she thought that I might have the authority to participate in the honors activities. The pressure on my breathing passages (minimizing the amount of non-honors breath loosed in the general area) lessened. But I wasn't safe yet - I needed a quick, yet clever retort to re-establish the cool, I-belong-here vibe that I must be giving out. Aha! I had it.

"No."

"Oh." And she turned away.

The End.