Shame #1

There are memories that stop you in the middle of a laugh and give you cold twinges. I was showering the other day feeling pretty good about myself, when I noticed myself feeling good about myself. Can’t have that. So I decided to implement my patented do-it-yourself humbleness kit.

Two memories that I use for this purpose both happened in college away from significant witnesses, so the burden of their retelling is upon me. Just the recollection brought up a shame that burned away any semblance of accumulated pride and confidence leaving me huddled and inexplicably cold under the steaming jets of water.

“Class, let me have you attention…” Our normally animated physics teacher looked ready to burst with excitement. “We are having a guest speaker from LSU today. She will be discussing recent advances in nano-technology!” I leaned my seat against the wall and scanned the class. Apparently his excitement wasn’t infectious enough; the class returned his exuberant smile with their normal expressionless indifference. I was happy enough, I love nan-technology and was thoroughly enjoying the lecture when we convened in a nearby lecture room a little later. I won’t bore you with details but the older woman who was lecturing obviously had a passion for the material she was presenting, I was fascinated.

The mood was broken when one of the many cornbread-fed idiot rednecks decided to ask a question. “Why are out taxdollerrs goin toward this stuff, it don’t DO anythin…” Repressing a strong urge to strangle the fellow, I sat back and watched with disgust as the teachers went out of their way to embrace the question and make him feel like his concern was valid and not the insipid waste of time it was. As Henry says, it’s the American belief that everyone can be brought up to college level that has lowered college to everyone’s level… but I digress.

So once the moron had been catered to sufficiently, the lecture continued. I was again enjoying myself until a few of our professors decided to tell her what she was saying was not possible. That’s right, the guest speaker from a cutting edge research lab, defending herself from attacks from her audience. She verbalized her position admirably and remained composed in spite of obvious irritation. After the aggressive Q & A, the bored students and huffing professors abruptly left, leaving her looking flustered and (I thought) alone. Feeling immediately sorry for her, I started towards the front of the room to see if she wanted to join me for coffee.

I didn’t immediately dick it up, as a matter of fact my first proposition was both relaxed and well worded. But apparently she didn’t hear it. Shying back away from me she frowned and said, “Um…what!?!” That response caught me totally off guard and I was immediately reduced to a stumbling, very non-verbose Neanderthal. I’m sure the words “coffee” and “was about to get” came out, but not at all in the right order, following by a jerky look at the wristwatch which I wasn’t wearing. Frustrated by the paralyzing grade-school nervousness that had invaded my system, I tried again and made an even worse job of it.

She watched with ever-widening eyes as I made steady progress down the path to get-the-hell-away-from-me-Frankenstein weirdness, all the while slowly picking up paper from the desk that separated us, in the manner you might sneak food away from an eating dog. Once she had gathered her paraphernalia, she said something about a luncheon she had to attend and made a rather hasty retreat.

The lecture hall door closed with a booming echo, leaving me and my shattered ego under the blue glow of the projector screen. Trudging back across campus, I espied her and a group of other people, presumably from her group, standing just off my path. She said something and they all looked my way. I thought better of my initial reaction to wave and hurried on my way.

The incident was on my mind when I joined my frat brothers for lunch, and the details spilled out before the food had a chance to drown them. They were about as supportive as a pair of wet boxers, and after declining their offers to date their respective grandmothers, I went home and curled in a ball until sleep transported me to a fresh day.