i heart traffic school – day two Patsy: So tell…

i heart traffic school – day two

Patsy: So tell us, Damon, how many tickets have you received?

Damon: Total?

Patsy: Yes.

Damon: Oh, I’d say about…25 to 30. *shrugs nonchalantly*

Everyone: *collective gasp* OHHHHHH…!

Patsy: *shrieks* 25 to 30??!!

Damon: *defensively* Whaaat? In all my years of driving? That’s not bad at all.

Everyone: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Patsy: *pained expression*

Damon was sitting next to me, and kept his sketchbook close at hand during the entire three hours, taking periodic breaks from participating to instead draw remarkably well-executed portraits of the people in the class. I wondered why he kept turning his head to look at me, until I surreptitiously glanced over to find that he was drawing my face, too.

Everyone kept asking, “Aren’t your feet cold?” I like wearing flip-flops in January, okay. I’m weird like that. Leave me alone.

Yesterday, we all received huge chunks of points for answering various questions correctly. Today, Patsy brought in gifts for those with the highest number of points. First place got an Uno candy bar. Second place got M&Ms. Third place got Three Musketeers.

Patsy: And, guess what, as an apology, you get a candy bar, too!

Me: *surprised* Wow, good stuff.

Patsy: Do you know why I’d be apologizing to you?

Me: For not giving me enough points?

Patsy: Yeah, yeah, nice try.

Me: I have no idea then.

Patsy: Well, it’s because I still can’t say your name right.

Me: *laughing* Come on, Patsy, it’s not that hard!

My candy bar is the Hershey’s Whatchamacallit.

(And all together now: yaasmeen. Got it? Thank you.)

The unexpected part came at the end, when we all walked out of the building, parting ways at our respective cars.

“So you live right here in _____, huh?” asked Damon (a.k.a. the guy with the sketchbook) conversationally.

“Yeah,” I said.

“How ’bout you let me give you a call sometime?”

Whaaat the hell? I did not go to traffic school for this.

And even though I turned him down (quite nicely and politely, I might add), it doesn’t make me feel better to have only just remembered that he’s walking around with my face drawn in his sketchbook.

Grand, just grand.

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