Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Humanities Reference

It's cool guys. I didn't want you to comment anyway.
I feel sick in the library. Really. Like I might throw up on the table. What would happen then? There are always intriguing social observations to be made when something dramatic happens in an otherwise silent public place. It would be one thing if I dropped my books. The boy one table over with the shaggy hair would help me pick them up, a few other people would look, I'd blush, and minutes later the incident would be forgotten. But if I were to toss my cookies? Would anyone help? Or would I be entirely ignored while my fellow studiers tried their hardest to repress their own gag reflexes? Lucky for all of us, I'm not God, and I'm not the decider of post-mortal placement. But I'm pretty sure that if anyone were to provide assistance in such a moment of trauma, they'd be just the sort of person who will breeze right into heaven, nigh unto an Angel.
K but really guys, no comments? That's harsh.

6 comments:

  1. i would provide assistance but probably only in the form of getting an employee to get a janitor. i don't think God would allow much breeziness into heaven for that.

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  2. Whoa take it easy, thanks for YOUR comments shawty.

    If I was at the table and it got on me I'd help, then I'd terminate our friendship.

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  3. I hope you do not throw up.

    I threw up a couple weeks ago on the metro. I started feeling sick, so I jumped off at the stop, opened my newspaper and vomited into it...lovely. In front of everyone.

    Then I threw away the newspaper, got back on the metro and went to work.

    ...it feels good to be a gangster...

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  4. I've been thinking about this "throwing up" thing. A lot. Here is my answer.

    If it were an eighties teen movie: I would be embarassed because I'm a teenager and don't want to be associated with the girl ralphing in the library. But I would wipe your mouth of with my neon colored oversized t-shirt and we would scramble away embarrassed.

    If it were a nineties Clueless-type movie: you vomited and everyone would be laughing and I would swoop in and say something to them about how they shouldn't be cruel and then you and I would become friends and I would give you a makeover that would be acceptable then but never stand the test of time.

    If it were a current chick flick: I would do something to distract everyone in the library. Then you and I would do something outrageous (think dancing on tables or a gymnastics routine) which would make everyone forget that you blew chunks. Also, some hunky guy would see how brave you were and he would try to date you but couldn't find your number until a later time when it's more serendipitous.

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  5. allyson, can we refrain from using the phrase "blew chunks?" ugh, just thinking that phrase makes me gag.

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  6. I beat you. But only because you almost puked, but didn't actually do it. Had you let go of your fear of social awkwardness and your lunch you'd have beat me.

    Story time.

    I walk toward my table on the 4th floor of the good ole HBLL. It is silent in there, but I don't know that because my headphones are blaring. As I sit down I set my cell phone on the table and get out my laptop. I start going to town on homework. Five minutes later I get a tap on the shoulder. I turn, take out my ear bud, and receive the news that my phone is ringing. At this moment I pause and hear the last two seconds of "Jizz in My Pants" playing. That means that the whole section of the library was introduced to an incredible song. Fifty percent of the people probably didn't know what the song was talking about, but 100 percent of them were embarrassed. More embarrassed than I was. I apologized to those people trying to avoid eye contact with me (everyone) with a loud "sorry about that." I was nice enough to leave the area to call my friend back.

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Don't be shy.