SinistralPal
New member
- Joined
- Jun 8, 2010
- Messages
- 69
- MBTI Type
- ENTP
- Enneagram
- 7w8
It starts right now. I had reached the serenity point (read: I am at peace with my own mortality) of my last minute cramming of my calculus midterm (read: bringer of death) and was in great need of a diversion. Walking around my university campus, I came across two signs: “Free pancakes in Student Parliament Office 9:00am-10:30am!†and “Internship positions available! Information session at 10:00am in Room 313!†I checked my watch, and it was 9:58am. Still in time for pancakes.
When I got there, an Asian in the corner was idly solving a rubics cube. I say “solving†because the guy was Asian, of course. Anyone else would probably be "fiddling with." Anyway,some white upper-middle class suburban boys pretending to be from "teh ghet-to" in East LA were loudly conversing about the most anticipated upcoming concerts. I wandered over to the fat kid flipping pancakes. He obviously was more interested in the curly haired girl beside him than his job because he flipped my pancake wrong, and it ended up as a fractured half burnt, half uncooked pile of mush, very unlike the golden circles of delight all the other ones seemed to be.
“Hey, you screwed my pancake up! You have FAILED in your pancake cooking mission here!†I felt obliged to tell him. I said this with a crooked smile and a twinkle in my eye of course, just to hide the fact that I actually was really pissed off.
“Sorry...I'm trying.†He muttered, still playfully nudging that curly haired girl. I sighed.
“Obviously NOT hard enough. Can you make me a new one?†I shoved my plate back at him, all the while trying to maintain the image that I wasn't taking my anti-pancake all that hard. He took it, and threw it out, and started griddling me some new hotcakes. I diverted my attention to the Asian in a cube trance.
“So, you playing with that thing, or actually solving it?†I figured I should ask because I merely assumed he was solving the puzzle because he was of a particular race. And as we all know, assumptions, although, 99.9% of the time, are correct, that 0.1% of the time they are completely and utterly wrong, can make an “ass†out of “you†and “meâ€. He could have very well be as dumb as the rest of us. So, I had to find out the truth.
“Solving.†He gave me a nasty look, and in two seconds, he had it solved. He tossed me the cube, I checked it out, nodded, and threw it back to him. He went to sit down, and dove into a textbook, in what I can only guess would be, some sort of advanced non-linear imaginary algebra or something. I heard the phrase, “all male strippers†coming from the East LA wannabes, and at that, my new and improved pancakes were done.
When I got there, an Asian in the corner was idly solving a rubics cube. I say “solving†because the guy was Asian, of course. Anyone else would probably be "fiddling with." Anyway,some white upper-middle class suburban boys pretending to be from "teh ghet-to" in East LA were loudly conversing about the most anticipated upcoming concerts. I wandered over to the fat kid flipping pancakes. He obviously was more interested in the curly haired girl beside him than his job because he flipped my pancake wrong, and it ended up as a fractured half burnt, half uncooked pile of mush, very unlike the golden circles of delight all the other ones seemed to be.
“Hey, you screwed my pancake up! You have FAILED in your pancake cooking mission here!†I felt obliged to tell him. I said this with a crooked smile and a twinkle in my eye of course, just to hide the fact that I actually was really pissed off.
“Sorry...I'm trying.†He muttered, still playfully nudging that curly haired girl. I sighed.
“Obviously NOT hard enough. Can you make me a new one?†I shoved my plate back at him, all the while trying to maintain the image that I wasn't taking my anti-pancake all that hard. He took it, and threw it out, and started griddling me some new hotcakes. I diverted my attention to the Asian in a cube trance.
“So, you playing with that thing, or actually solving it?†I figured I should ask because I merely assumed he was solving the puzzle because he was of a particular race. And as we all know, assumptions, although, 99.9% of the time, are correct, that 0.1% of the time they are completely and utterly wrong, can make an “ass†out of “you†and “meâ€. He could have very well be as dumb as the rest of us. So, I had to find out the truth.
“Solving.†He gave me a nasty look, and in two seconds, he had it solved. He tossed me the cube, I checked it out, nodded, and threw it back to him. He went to sit down, and dove into a textbook, in what I can only guess would be, some sort of advanced non-linear imaginary algebra or something. I heard the phrase, “all male strippers†coming from the East LA wannabes, and at that, my new and improved pancakes were done.
