A giant whiteboard looms above our dining table, clings to the wall of our house. Various comments come and go, drawings mysteriously appear and disappear, it’s used for games of movie pictionary at two in the morning, girls leave romantic poetry. In short, it is where we go for inspiration, to vent, or just write down something about someones mom.
This week a challenge has been issued. Large red font, on the top, reads:
CHALLENGE: CAN MICHAEL MAKE IT TO EVERY CLASS FOR THE WHOLE WEEK?
Below this is a daily checklist, where I mark if I was able to make it to every class for each particular day of the week. Below that is where people can place their bets, signing their names in and wagers in YES or NO columns. Those voting yes receive 5 to 1 odds, though I feel they should receive 50 to 1 odds. In the NO column you can find my own initials. I’m betting against myself.
Bryson, for some strange reason has decided to bet on me. In fact, he’s declared that he will take me out to dinner if I can make it to every class, every day, for one week.
We talked about it last night over a bottle of Brazillian Merlot...
ME: I see you’re betting on me.
BRYSON: I see you’re not.
ME: Well, we all know I’ve yet to achieve perfect attendance for a full week. Right now I’m averaging about 70%.
BRYSON: It’s not Yale!
ME: I know! Yeah! (my hand shoots into the air for a high-five but he’s not looking so I quickly lower it and play cool, real cool)
Long pause…
ME: The idea of a free dinner just for going to class sounds great. Our generation needs, expects even, to be rewarded for doing the bare minimum. Rewards are for doing what you should do anyway. And, since I have an audience for my attendance this week, I might actually be able to do it. It’s hard these days to do anything without an audience. In fact, this whole conversation would be nearly impossible to have if not for the possibility of blogging it tomorrow. I need an audience. I need an audience that tells me I fit in. I just. Want. To fit. In.
BRYSON: (has left the room… I realize I’m talking to myself)
ME: (my voice drops to a furious whisper) Damn! The world is a circus and I’m nothing more than a sad clown, delivering my jokes to an empty arena.
7 comments:
That picture gives me the chills. I absolutely despise clowns.
Meeee tooooo! They are the worst!
dammit, double comment. awkward.
I bet you can make it to all your classes. i will give you a present if you do!
Any reason why you wouldn't be able to make your classes?
Perhaps that question is best answered with a question:
Any reason why I would be able to make it to my classes?
That is perhaps the dumbest thing I've ever said. Please don't answer that question.
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