The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Archive for the ‘Weekly Wacko’ Category

Thank You?, No, Thank Me

My freshman year of college I was walking downstairs in my dorm to put some laundry in. I had the basket, so it wasn’t very easy walking. At the bottom of the stairs was a large, heavy door that was always closed for fire safety.

A guy was walking a number of steps in front of me – he was just past the distance where you go through the internal debate of ‘should I hold the door for the person behind me?’ Except, I was carrying a bulky object, which extends the time you should wait to hold the door.

The guy decided that he was far enough away, or a big enough punk, to not feel the need to hold the door for me. He walked on through, and the door began to close.

I would’ve preferred that not to have been the case, so I decided the appropriate thing to do would be a sarcastic thanks. I was by myself, but that only seems to encourage my desire to make stupid jokes.

“Thanks,” I said out loud, with a cheesy grin and exaggerated wink.

That’s when the guy, the saint, came back, with the purpose of holding the door for me realizing I could use the help.

We both stopped and stared – I had the presence of mind to un-wink, and slowly go from cheesy sarcastic smile to awkward, what to do … what to do … smile.

Eventually he backed up and let the door close behind him. I decided to wait a bit before doing my laundry.

That Time I Was Asked Out! By a Girl!

One day in the 7th grade a big event happened for me – I was asked out. By a girl!

I don’t remember what I was doing, but I know I was by myself. The girl came up and said hey, I said hello. There were about 50 of us total in the 7th grade at that school. I didn’t have her in my main classes, but I think we were in gym and art together. I knew who she was, but didn’t know her that well.

She popped the big question – asking if I’d want to go out with her.

I didn’t want to go out with her. I don’t think I wanted to go out with anyone then. I had big crushes, but I enjoyed them as crushes. I was afraid of ruining how nice my crush from afar was with risky things like conversation and interaction with the fairer sex.

Plus, you know, girls suck at video games so what good are they?

As soon as she asked I knew I would say no, but I felt so bad about it. Aw, I’m going to break her little heart. Poor girl. I don’t want to go out with her.

With a face that was I’m sure full of pity and sadness, I said a quiet and sad ‘no.’

She responded quickly with an ‘ok!’ and off she went.

I still felt guilty about crushing her dreams of dating me. But boy, she sure didn’t take it hard.

As the afternoon wore on a little bit I began to feel pretty good about myself – I got asked out! By a girl! I was not very confident and this left my ego feeling pretty good.

After school that day I was talking with some friends and someone mentioned something about that girl.

Apparently, she seemed to have asked out what felt like half the 7th grade class. I was singled out because of the distinguishing characteristic of me being a boy. Great.

My ego returned to its regular size (which was about the size of an N64 game cartridge), and instead of thinking about how nice it was to be liked I thought about how crazy that girl must be. Who asks out that many people? In one day?

I think my ego would’ve puked from the roller coaster ride if I’d said yes to going out, then at the end of the day found out that I was boyfriend choice number X.

‘Oh you’re going out with her? I thought about saying yes.’
‘Yeah me too.’
‘Me too.’
‘Oh I was a definite no all the way.’

Stereotypes and A-Holes (And How I Relate to Them So Well)

Through work I found out about a great volunteer opportunity where people from work went to a school and did all of the lessons in one day. Hanging out with kids all day? Sounds good. (That’s not sarcasm, but you’d think it would be.)

I worked with another guy and we were going to teach a fourth grade class. I was randomly assigned to work with him, but he was a very nice guy.

At the time I lived in the Silicon Valley. Which meant the school had a pretty wide array of people. The class had your standard white-bread Americana kids, black kids, Hispanic kids, middle Eastern kids, Asian kids, one kid from Russia and if I recall correctly one kid from Egypt.

How cool is that!

I remember my fourth grade class had, I think, one Asian kid, one black kid, and the rest white. I was living in Leavenworth, Kansas – so those demographics seem about right.

 

I thought it was great for the kids to see so much diversity at a young age, when you’re less likely (I hope) to have negative pre-conceived notions about any particular nationality, skin color, or whatever.

I was worried though. What if the one Russian kid was a jerk? Then these kids might think of all Russians as jerks. I know that’s pretty silly to have such strong associations with a whole country from one person, but I realized I just did something similar.

I was watching the news about some research PhD’s at Stanford were doing, and one of the researchers was a New Zealander. I’ve never been to New Zealand. As far as I know, I’ve never met a New Zealander. But I am a big fan of  The Flight of the Conchords.

My thoughts when this genius PhD was talking? I bet he’s hilarious. I didn’t pay attention to his intelligent thoughts at all, I just waited for the punch line. It never came. (But in my head I think he was just SO DRY that I didn’t get it. Genius New Zealanders and they’re hyper-intelligent humor, it’s just too smart for me.)

 

I’ll add two things that I thought were funny from that day teaching those kids.

My co-teacher for the day was quite a bit shorter than me, so one of the students walked up to us and said, “hey, why are you so much shorter than him?” That kid is bound to be a scientist. The slighting of my co-teacher continued when we received thank you notes from all of the students (the teacher made them write these) and one of the students addressed my co-teacher, a male, as “Miss.” Awesome.

The other funny thing was an example of how I need to learn when to be sarcastic. Well, I don’t need to learn that, I need to actually do what I know I should.

A little girl came up to my co-teacher and I, “did you guys go out to recess?”
Me: “Yeah, we were at the four-square tearing it up.”
The little girl, very sadly, “oh, I looked for you guys and didn’t see you.”
I am an a-hole.

 

What’s the point of this scatter-shot Weekly Wacko? Self-made stereotypes make PhDs much more personable. And, I’m an a-hole.