I was watching The Sopranos earlier, and AJ is delighted to learn he might be learning disabled enough to qualify for taking the SATs with no time limit.
What? No time limit? That would be my worst nightmare; that to me would be worse than bombing the damn thing. I was always a fast test taker; I never hemmed and hawed for minutes over single questions, I either knew it or I didn’t and I’m moving on to the next question. I’d ALWAYS be the first to hand in a test or quiz, and every single time it’d go like this:
XMASTIME: Here, I’m done.
TEACHER: There’s no way you answered every question!
XMASTIME: I did.
TEACHER: Your brother never even would finish this fast!
XMASTIME: so?
TEACHER: Take it back to your desk; go over all the questions again.
XMASTIME: No.
TEACHER: If you don’t take it back I’m grading it! No second chances!
XMASTIME: (already back in seat, making paper footballs while macramé-ing XMAS LOVES LIBBY over and over)
Would drive the teacher bananas when I’d get an A. She’d make a point of saying “Your brother would take his time and get an A+!” to which I’d jump up on my desk and scream “I don’t fucking have time; did you NOT fucking see WarGames?!?!?!?!?!”
Trivial Pursuit too. I know it or I don’t. I HAAAAAAAAAAATE motherfuckers who sit there for thirty minutes staring into space when you KNOW they don’t know the fucking answer. If I encounter bra I don’t know how to untangle, I instantly say “take this off” so I can get on to my heroics. I don’t fucking stare at it trying to remember the pressure point of certain metal alloys employed by Montgomery Ward’s lingerie department. Move On!!!
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