Friday, September 16, 2005

CLASS with Cathy Ayersman

I used to live with a girl from West Virginia. She was your classic all-American looking girl. Pretty brunette, her hair was always neat looking - even after the gym! She always wore cute outfits from Gap or Old Navy or Abercrombie and she walked with a bounce in her step. Shorter than me, but with just as much spirit, she and I made many memories together during our stay at the dorm and in our party packed apartment on Woodland Avenue (which is, for UK campus life, like living in Times Square).

Now don't be fooled. You cannot judge a book by its cover. Cathy may look like a sweet lil' Southern Bell, but careful of her claws. Cathy is a very clever girl. Bright and quick.

We had Philosophy together one semester. This led to note passing, eye-rolling, and endless yawning. We both viewed Philosophy as time wasted; and girls like us should never be allowed to fall into a state of boredom... because for girls like us, boredom leads straight to mischief.

Now Sean, our teacher, had quite a thing for Cathy. I tried to stir the pot as often as possible with, "Sean, Cathy just can't seem to understand this theory. Could you come over here and help her?" or "Sean, are you going to the game this weekend? Cathy works for the Fieldhouse and can maybe get you some better seats." (This is where she might say that I am exaggerating, but don't believe her.)

So, Cathy - a girl of great means for revenge - started a game... that I ALWAYS lost. It all started from a rap song by the late Big Punisher called "I'm not a Player, I just Crush a lot" (or at least, that's the clean version of the song and the one we played by). Here are the rules:

1) If you hear the word "Class", you have to say AUDIBLY "Punish Me".
2) If you are in the middle of a conversation WITH ANYONE, you must still say "Punish Me".
3) You may NOT break eye contact with whom you are conversing. You must say "Punish Me" right to them without breaking stride.
4) No eye-rolling, heavy sighing, giggling, or looking away.
5) No explaining yourself to anyone. This is a covert game.

So the problem was that Cathy was always on point. She waited until I was in the middle of a conversation with a boy and she knew my weakness: I WAS ALWAYS DESPERATELY TRYING TO PLACE MYSELF INTO CONVERSATION WITH BOYS!

For example, Cathy and I were walking to class one fine day when we spotted Tayshaun Prince - a friend of mine from my days at the dorm. He was playing a lot for UK's basketball team and was a very talented player. (He now plays in the NBA.) So imagine it: I am 5'8" and he is 6'11" and Cathy is 5'4". People are already staring at us, some patting Tayshaun on his ample back, some asking for autographs, some shouting out, "Great game last night, man!" Like the cat who licked the cream, my ponytail is bobbing a little more than usual because I am the center of attention just for walking next to him!

I forgot to mention something about Cathy: she is a vampire. It is not blood she seeks, but the humiliation of others. Cathy, being shorter than me, therefore, has no problem yelling up at the giant, "So Tayshaun! Where is your next CLASS?!"

The world stops momentarily.

The word CLASS is echoing in my head and spinning around us as I stand there in front of him, mouth hanging wide open, my head jerked back as far as it will go just to make eye contact. I can feel the blood rushing to my ears --- right to my big exposed ears! I take one long blink and then demand that Tayshaun, "Punish Me."

He didn't ask me to repeat myself. He didn't agree or disagree to my request. He just sort of blinked a little and headed into the Classroom Building while I stood outside and contemplated throwing myself into the path of an oncoming golf cart.

2 comments:

Anonymous Scout said...

That is an amusing story.

Anonymous said...

So you and Cath both made me cry today. How I miss my college roomies!