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12099162 Kính chào các thầy, cô. Khi cài đặt phần mềm , trên PowerPoint và Word sẽ mặc định xuất hiện menu Bộ công cụ Violet để thầy, cô có thể sử dụng các tính năng đặc biệt của phần mềm ngay trên PowerPoint và Word. Tuy nhiên sau khi cài đặt phần mềm , với nhiều máy tính sẽ...
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PHRASAL VERBS & IDIOMS IN CONTEXT 05

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Người gửi: Thẩm Tâm Vy
Ngày gửi: 08h:02' 29-10-2020
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PHRASAL VERBS AND IDIOMS IN CONTEXT 05
EVENING CLASS
‘Tell you what Maria. Why don’t you come on down to the evening classes and distract yourself?’
‘What evening classes?’
‘The ones I teach down near Termini station. You won’t need to pay anything. I will speak to the woman who runs the school and ask if my new flat mate can sit through the lessons. I’ll explain that you’re going through a bad patch and need some kind of distraction. It’ll be good therapy for you to be in amongst people instead of sitting here crying your eyes out night in and night out hoping that sooner or later he’ll call you to say he’s made a big mistake. You won’t be coming as a ‘real student’ but as a friend of mine who needs to get out of the house for a bit.’
After a while Karen managed to talk Maria into joining her at the evening classes.
Signora Dora Berlucci, who ran the school, said it would be okay as long as Maria did not take away the students’ valuable lesson time especially their “TT”, (talking time). What, with ten students in a lesson that lasted 60 minutes there wasn’t much talking time per student as it was without someone else taking it up. After all, these students were paying good money for their English course.
Student satisfaction was extremely important to Signora Berlucci. She never stopped reminding the teachers that they weren’t to forget “SS”, student satisfaction.
‘Don’t worry Signora Berlucci,’ said Karen. ‘She will be an asset to the class. She can help the weaker students in the pair-work activities. She’s got a sound understanding of English. You can look upon her as an unpaid classroom assistant.’
Signora Berlucci was really quite a nice woman underneath that strict look she had about her. She was in her late fifties, was quite plump and was always to be seen dripping in cheap costume jewellery. She wore bright colours that often clashed. She didn’t have any dress sense at all. Her hair was dyed bright orange and tied up in a bun. She wore dangling ear-rings that almost reached down to her shoulders. But Dora Berlucci had one thing in her favour; she was an excellent sales person. She seemed to be able to sell English language courses to any student who came into the school even if
they were just there to make enquiries. She had them sign up for courses before you could say Jack Flash. She was the type of person who could talk an Eskimo into buying a fridge.
That evening Maria attended the evening class with Karen and the next and the next again. She felt refreshed. Everyone in the class was so very nice. She felt so useful. The students liked her presence and she had a great deal of knowledge to share with them. After all, she had attended numerous English courses in her lifetime and not only, she was a qualified teacher, maybe not of English, but still.
On the fourth night just as Karen and Maria were about to say goodbye to the students, Signora Berlucci called them over to introduce them to a new “teacher” she was about to employ for the conversation classes. His name was Mark and he was from Liverpool.
Mark was glad to have found a bit of company. He told them he’d only been in Rome for four days and had been wandering about on his own feeling pretty lonely. He’d just been to a nearby Irish pub in the hope they’d take him on, even if it were only for a couple of nights a week. ‘Anything was better than nothing,’ he added. The pub owner had told him that for the time being they didn’t need any more bar staff but would keep him in mind if anything were to come up.
Mark already knew that working in a pub was not the ideal setting for someone like himself who was planning on going teetotal but it would have been a start to earning some cash. The less he dipped into what money he had, the better.
Mark had been foolish in many aspects of his life but not with money. He’d grown up in a family where money had been tight and every penny had to be accounted for. What, with ten mouths to feed ma and pa had had no money for luxuries. Holidays had been completely out of the question.
They’d only ever been on the occasional day trip to Blackpool. Those trips, which had been few and far between, had felt like a lottery win for the whole family. His upbringing had made him aware of the true value of money and that it was not to be wasted although he hated to admit to himself that he had ‘drunk’ quite a bit of his money down at the local pub over the years. That didn’t count he tried to justify to himself. That was “enjoyment” money and a man needed to let himself go every once in a while.
‘Anyway,’ Mark added, ‘an American guy who works in the
 
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