After taking a refresher computer course at community college it occurred to me, we never leave high school. All of the students were seasoned scholars, but beneath the layers of experience lurked remnants of our high school personas, some remain a misfit.
The popular girl made a big show of planting herself at the center desk so all could have an unobstructed view of her perkiness. After a certain age, “cute” reduces you to a caricature; you gotta bring more to the game.
Snobbish girl took great pains in marking boundaries with her personalized coffee mug and water bottle. She was visibly pained when she discovered her tchotchkes could not reside adjacent to a computer. She tightened her grip on her Mont Blanc pen.
The brainy girl entered the classroom, acknowledging no one except the instructor. She scoped out the room for kindred spirits. Finding none worthy of her attention, she hoisted her chin to a ninety-degree angle thus avoiding making eye contact with anyone. She remained in that position for the duration of the course.
The vamp swooped into class late because she spent too much time perfecting her wardrobe and styling her hair. She studiously avoided sitting in an area occupied by other women. Her inability to keep up with the class threw her into a frenzy. Her carefully applied make up, sliding down her face was not pretty.
In high school, the class male intellectual impressed the teacher with his skill in conjugating Latin verbs. In adulthood, he had progressed to tekkie genius and attempted to commandeer the class. He was so obnoxious even the brainy girl wanted him to shut up.
Unless you are Sean Connery, a mature gentleman should never attempt to pull off the gray ponytail look. One of our attendees did not get that memo. Making his own fashion statement, he had pulled the grungy tail through the back of a gimme cap.
My high school persona surfaced as well. It was like that nightmare where you appear in public in your underwear. I was the only female in the entire class that did not color my gray hair. Bazillion years later and I am still out of the loop.
Categories: Biased, Unbalanced and Politically Incorrect
I am a lifelong Southerner, short story author, and essayist. Home is Dallas, Texas.
My essays have appeared in Flash Fiction Magazine, The Dead Mule School of Southern Writing.