I'm sitting in class completely zoned out. I'm hearing every word but processing them about two full seconds after they hit my grey matter; 1427 grams of partially useful stuff. God's joke on us???
Dr. Mannesh is on one of his ego trips or in his case an excursion. I don't care for the man but he is brilliant and he is the teacher, so I suppose have to respect him. I don't care for his attentions. Don't get me wrong they aren't inappropriate (i.e. sexual in any way), rather they're a cross between an endearing respect and condescension. Maybe it's how I read him. He has a British accent with a mild middle-eastern clip. It's the Brit that sets me off. It almost feels fake or wrong because for some reason I'm used to those accents being even more grossly exaggerated. Used to? I grew up in Jersey!
What is he saying? I hope Ang is catching this. Angela's my, I guess, best friend; smart, beautiful, instant friends with everyone. I bet everyone feels like they're her best friend, but I'll take it, considering she is the only who seems to connect with me in any of my classes.
Mannesh is giving us an assignment for the break. Profiling? Like two weeks is enough for that. These have all been done by the FBI he wants us to "take it the next level." Uh! "This requires an intense element of empathy with your sociopath. " He thinks he's hip passing out these envelopes with FBI profiles. Like we're all of the sudden going to tell him how cool he is. Wow, Thank you Doctor for giving me Henry Lee Lucas. Please.
Angela cracks me up. She gets John Wayne Gacy and asks to trade it in because Clowns freak her out, Clowns. Forget the rotting bodies under he floorboards it's the honking red nose. She still pushing it and Mannesh isn't having any. Inside my envelope, the Green River Killer Boring! Ang tries to switch with me, "No." I tell her after the two second delay in my mental reflexes. Everyone hates clowns.
I want this class to end. 4:08, thank God! Ang invites me to a party. I tell her no. She won't take no for an answer. I like that about her. I can't do the alcohol thing, I tell her. She's the only other person outside of my family and my shrink who knows about that. I trust her too, I guess.
Mannesh asks me to stay after class. He wants me to guest lecture his Origins of Criminal Sexual Violence in another class. The way he asks should be a compliment, but anyone else would say it's some freaky come on. He strikes me as asexual, but the effort is a conscious one. He must not want to be misunderstood by some litigious, career-ending coed, that he made up in his head. I tell him no thank you. He says there's pay and one other little thing, its required. He won't take no for an answer, either.
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