Lisa Cuddy stands there, in front of the two wooden doors that are the entryway to the Endocrinology class, that she’s going to audit. Her mind is contemplating whether to go in or not, because this wasn’t about learning, no, this was about him. Stories of the lunatic, that which is Gregory House, had reached her ears, and she was determined to meet him. Her feet finally decide to move, as her hand opens the door to the class room. Luckily, nobody looks when the doors open, much to her relief. She looks around the room, for an open seat, and she finally spots one. The assento seguinte to it is filled, por a man, who seems to be in a deep sleep. His snores can be heard, as Cuddy takes a assento right seguinte to him. No wonder nobody is sitting por him. She thinks to herself.
The professor is speaking loudly about a type of gland, while she searches the room with her eyes, which isn’t much help, because she has no idea what House looks like, all she knew is that he was tall, and witty. And, how in the hell was she going to see wit? This was clearly impossible. As she looks around, she began drumming her finger nails on the desk.
“Would you quit with the drumming.”
The man seguinte to her speaks, with his eyes still closed, and his head on his desk.
“It wasn’t a question, it was mais like a demand.” He states.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” But, her nails still click back and forth on the desk.
He finally lifts his head up, and opens his eyes, and looks at her, intently.
“Is there a problem?” She asks.
But, instead of him answering, he looks away, and pretends to listen to the professor.
Twenty five minutos had gone por of her listening to the professor ramble on about a patient, and listen to people in front of her whisper about an upcoming party. This was getting ridiculous to her, she was wasting her time. She wasn’t going to be able to meet-
“Greg House, who is seated in the back row, was doing lab work on this patient.”
The professor pointed to the man who was seated por Cuddy. Her once closed mouth had become entirely open
The professor is speaking loudly about a type of gland, while she searches the room with her eyes, which isn’t much help, because she has no idea what House looks like, all she knew is that he was tall, and witty. And, how in the hell was she going to see wit? This was clearly impossible. As she looks around, she began drumming her finger nails on the desk.
“Would you quit with the drumming.”
The man seguinte to her speaks, with his eyes still closed, and his head on his desk.
“It wasn’t a question, it was mais like a demand.” He states.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” But, her nails still click back and forth on the desk.
He finally lifts his head up, and opens his eyes, and looks at her, intently.
“Is there a problem?” She asks.
But, instead of him answering, he looks away, and pretends to listen to the professor.
Twenty five minutos had gone por of her listening to the professor ramble on about a patient, and listen to people in front of her whisper about an upcoming party. This was getting ridiculous to her, she was wasting her time. She wasn’t going to be able to meet-
“Greg House, who is seated in the back row, was doing lab work on this patient.”
The professor pointed to the man who was seated por Cuddy. Her once closed mouth had become entirely open