We're sorry; the brain you've reached has been disconnected. Please hang up and try again.
Oh, sorry about that. My brain is currently jumpstarting an idea, but the damn cables are wet from all of the sweat on my brow. College Level Physics tends to do that to a person. Especially when that person is taking their final exam.
My name? Well, according to my teacher, the name on my paper says "Connor McDermott", but all I see on there is "Desperate Idiot".
And like any desperate idiot, I knew that there was only one thing that I could do if I was going to pass this test. So I got to work on my new game plan. But to do it my mind needed some real training. I had the mathematical part of my brain run some calculations to determine how much time I had to search for a good, easy to cheat off of candidate. I had my eyes running suicides until they found said candidate. I had my id holding off my superego long enough for me to get what I needed. It wasn't doing a very good job. I could still hear my superego's echoes looming through my brain.
"DON'T DO IT" "STOP"
Needless to say, I couldn't. Not when I was this close.
"Ok folks, time is up, please pass your papers forward and have a great summer."
I felt 50 pounds heavier after he said that. I couldn't tell if the lump in my throat was a tumor coming to take my life or my soul crying at the disappointment I've become. Either way, it wasn't welcome. Not in public at least. I'd have to swallow it for now and wait a little later in the day to vomit it into tears and self-loathing.
I walked over to give him my abortion of a final exam, regret filling the sweat beads of my forehead. The floor tiles never looked more ugly than they did that day. I slowly scan the man in front of me like a robot about to attack its prey. He's a bit taller than me. Around 6'2''. Looks like a mix of Bert from Sesame Street and an anorexic George Costanza.
I'm hoping to only glance at him for a few seconds. If only it were that easy. He pulls my gaze into his like a full on wrestling match. And I'm about to tap out.
"All done?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Have a great summer!"
"Yeah, you too."
I can't believe you messed that up as badly as you did. I thought those hours you spent on YouTube goofing off would have helped out. Maybe Jen was right.
"I just don't get you Connor, you know? You've talked about all these things you want to do in your life, but all you do is sit around all day. I just…you need to get a grip on reality."
Maybe I am a failure.
I guess I should celebrate my failure with the Dinner of Losers then.
McDonald's. Beautiful.