The Slap Heard Around My Left Cheek: Madlib

Last night, my dear, sweet Auntie Lorraine, was a momentous occasion in my young life. It was my first official abnormal psych. exam / food fight. Let me set the scene. We were in Ryan's Irish Auditorium, a fine little Irish auditorium with good burgers and cold Guinness on 2nd ave (the place is not but 20 feet from my other class). It was probably 2:30am and we had settled into the desks along one wall. There I was, surrounded by nerds, sisters of friends and Todd, when out of nowhere I feel someone hug me from behind. I was confused. Everyone I came with was rapt in test-taking. I was even more confused when I turned around and it was just some hungry kid. He started mumbling something about my shirt and how he's from the other dimension. We have a little chat about Freud, ya know nothing confrontational. Next thing I know, I feel some clown picking at my test dinner then BOOM, a full fledged, burgers-launching, Freudian patty slap across my buns.

Listen, I get it. It was a long time coming. I'm sure there's been people in every phase of my life that have wanted nothing more than to come over to the desk I'm writing my test at, hug me, then cop my meal and totally distract me in one way or another so that they might steal my studied and generally well-thought-out responses. Its a natural reaction to my A+ average and colored hats. If, in a court of law, this guy's uncle said "Judge Judy, he was SITTING and had a purple hat OVER HIS FRIES", I bet Judge Judy leaves the bench and asks me something about how one goes about eating while testing or what kind of classroom is this or what exactly is the deal. But I digress. Back to the action.


What happened next was pretty great. My co-contributors, the CONTRIBUTOR and James (name to come later) were also testing but really just in a burger coma and totally exam STUMPED for lack of proportioned eat/test combo that I was surprised when they seemed to pounce faster than the rat king on a garbage pile. Lets just say that this dude was lucky that 37% blog didn't wear our formal wear to the test last night because this guy would have been Rorschached like no other.

(37% blog formal wear)

While I was looking for my burger (that's right, instead of getting in this dude's face, I decided to go under the desk), the TA came over to defuse the situation. He told James and the CONTRIBUTOR to back off because "I went to Hofstra". Does this mean anything anymore? Last I checked most psych majors who hang out on 2nd ave. and went to Hofstra are wannabe hipster doofuses. James basically said "thats cool, where's Hofstra?" and showed that he had plenty of burgers to go around, more or less nullifying the really just plain rude meal-theft portion of the previous attack. Long story short, hungry kid backed down and told me he couldn't even read my handwriting, recognizing that the some dude was a moron.

What happens in one's head to go from a civil (and admittedly food-jealous) mid-test hug to slapping a tiny, potentially malnourished kid across the meal. Should I be mad that my first food fight was me getting slapped with a burger then worrying about my having to get another? Let me answer that question. I'm not mad. If it had somehow happened any other way it just wouldn't have been right. Only I, That Small One, would get slapped during a test for no reason. Only I, That Small One, would react by diving under the desk. Only I, That Small One, would immediately not really care and just ask for a new test, please, and hey you pass me another burger, stat. It was exactly what it should have been. Thanks, Universe. But still, that dude is lucky it wasn't formal night.