I almost did, but if memory serves, I was banging a girl in there, and I didn't want her getting the impression that I was trying to avoid her. Which I soon thereafter was. Turned out she was crazy, and then not only was I stuck in Embree's class, but with this crazy chick. So yes, layers of 17ups.
Embree had it in for me, too, though now I don't remember what I ever did to the guy to deserve it. Multiple times, though, I wanted to grab him by the chin beard and beat the life out of him with that fifteen-pound Chaucer book.
He was a man who lacked inspiration in any form, so he focused on ridiculous details instead, trying to make a technical subject out of something non-technical. He also gave multiple choice tests on that ridiculous detail, which I hated.
My dad, who worked in the EE department for 28 years (whose name I don't see present in 6 pages here--ahem), claimed to me that Embree was a wannabe engineer who couldn't hack it. So he chose the one specialty in English lit where he could obsess with meaningless details instead of big picture stuff--life lessons.
I literally don't remember anything from that class other than him being a colossal dick.
This was in 1995, I think.