Semantics…

     In college, Thursday meant the end of the week for me generally. I liked my weekends like I liked my woman; long and easy. Well, only one of those accurately portrays the women preference but you can’t have a saying like that with only one adjective. That would be like Bert without Ernie, Peanut Butter without Jelly…
     The motto couldn’t be far from the truth though in reality. I had, and actually still have, the bad habit of acting relatively stupid when I get nervous. I wanted people to consider me stupid/funny and not uninteresting; hence mottos such as this were created.
     Now that I think about it, I’m not all that undesirable. I graduated from college after seven long years with eight languages under my belt. If you asked any of the girls that I dated while in college what my major was, they would all give you different answers. Telling people I was a linguistics major only ended with an “Oh, that’s neat…” comment but never anything else. On the other hand, if you told them something like Premed or Microeconomics you would be in their pants faster then you could say Rohypnol.
     During my third year, I regrettable enrolled in General Physics. Friends would tell me what an easy time they had with the class and I figured that that particular semester should be an easy one. How was I supposed to know that the professor would decide to end his tenure at the last minute? Apparently the fact that he was caught boning down with a freshman had nothing to do with his decision. I’m thinking that the fact that the freshman was a male student was the clincher.
     The new teacher loved physics a little too much, and somehow I always became the human factor/participant when it came to dangerous experimentation. The thing about this teacher was he wanted everyone to know the original intent behind what not to do. If Nikola Tesla found out that alternating current was not to be used on oneself whilst in a pool of water, then our class had to concurrently find out… the hard way. Two years ago I read an article about how due to a chemical imbalance a certain teacher at my old college had to quit teaching physics.
     The defining moment for this class though, was the moment I met Judy. We were partners in an experiment to show the relationship between time and momentum in inelastic collisions. The lab consisted of me running as fast as I could into her while she did the same, only she got to be in a golf cart. Girls have it so easy sometimes.
     When I eventually woke up I found my self lying in a pool of what appeared to be my own urine and my head on an angels lap.
     “Geez guy, you really got messed up on that one.”
     “Did I just get hit by a cow?”
     “No, just a golf cart, but those things are pretty similar,” she snickered.
     “Where are we?” I asked.
     “Um, I think in parking lot B. Something about this not technically being on campus so this was the best legal spot for the lab.”
     My brain felt like it was made out of yogurt.
     “Why do we have to do stupid things like this all the time?”
     “Eh, I kind of like it when we do stupid stuff like this. There’s something magical about the whole “human involvement” factor when it comes to the scientific process.”
     “Wow,” I said as I held my rib, “who knew that painful and magical were synonymous. Do you really believe that?”
     “Not really, I just thought it was freaking hilarious when I nailed you going twenty-three miles per hours in your leg benders.”
     “Leg-benders?”
     She laughed really hard and smiled. “It’s just another name you call your knees silly.”