Going Home and other such adventures

My cellphone's buzz shakes me awake out of my nice siesta*. I don't recognize the number so I answer in Spanish.

"Hola?"

"Hola!" That's all I really can catch. Then the voice on the other line starts to rapidly rush thorough what I'm assuming is his name and his purpose for calling.

"Espera..espera...como?"**

He then responds a bit slower. As I become more and more awake, I'm starting to realize that he is explaining that he got my number from Monica at the International Relations office and that I'm teaching private English lessons and how much do they cost?

This is a surprise. My mind tries to keep up. English. I can teach that. Lessons. I can earn money. I wanted to sign up for teaching English anyways. Pretend. Fast. Pretend.

I explain that I merely didn't realize Monica was giving out my number, but that I was definitely willing to teach. As for payment, it depends on his level of English, how many classes he wants, and that I'd have to think about it.

A few minutes later I close my phone and shake my head. Looks like I might be an English teacher now.

I laugh a chagrined laugh. I suppose the disorganization of this University can work to my benefit sometimes.*** I don't know where Monica got the idea that I was teaching English, but here I am.

Now I just have to decide how much to charge. Oh, and figure out how to teach English as a second language. Yea. That too.


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*Well, actually it wasn't that nice. The noise on the street was keeping me from sleeping.
**Wait, wait. What?
***Versus just this morning when I was informed that, even though it was their fault I signed up for the wrong class, they wouldn't give me a refund. So perhaps this is a way for me to earn back the 100 euros they made me spend.