Wednesday, May 5, 2004

I am seated at the back of my science class. There are way too many kids in this class, and a girl named Shelly is giving a presentation. She is in the corner, singing a gospel song. A boy named Greg with really big eyes is standing behind her, doing back-up vocals, a job for which he is clearly not the right man. Towards the end of the song he starts visibly forgetting the right words and Shelly has to start whispering the right ones in his ear before she sings each line. Everybody laughs.

The science teacher, Mr. Wilson, who always reminded me of a more serious David Letterman, says something to the effect of, "I don't think it would be actually possible for anybody to give a presentation that makes you hate them." He's saying it as a joke, like "don't worry about anybody hating you because of this, it's not going to matter that much." I enthusiastically raise my hand and tell him that somebody could probably give a presentation that made you hate them-- say if, for instance the presentation involved giving you a disease and then curing you of it but they don't do the curing part right. I try to think of another example before he moves on to the next presentation.