Wednesday, April 28, 2004

This is just a regular classroom, although I'm the oldest person in the class by far. Except for Pedram, aka Pedro, this kid who sat next to me in homeroom every year in middle and high school because his last name started with KH and mine, of course, is KI.

Some little tiny annoying kid with greasy black hair, totally waify, does something and a young guy in a collared shirt and a really clean haircut throws him on the ground. I have to intimidate the older kid and tell him violence isn't cool, that nobody doubts that he could beat up the little guy, and that even if that kid is being annoying it's not his place to be punishing this kid. I think he kind of buys it but young male pride of course won't let him buy the whole thing. He's gotta be at least 6 years younger than me.

Later, the annoying kid takes out glow sticks and I tell him, "This isn't Intro to Raving!" then realize all these kids are too young to have gone to a rave. I start telling them an exaggerated story of what raves are like in a fake old-timer voice and like one or two girls laugh.