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Well... great.
Have you read the Parable of the Sadhu? If not: long story short, there is a group of businessmen on a six month sabbatical in which they are climbing a mountain. These men are confronted with the precarious situation in which, while climbing the mountain they meet a naked Sadhu man struggling with hypothermia. Do the men leave the man behind for potential death or do they backtrack their once-in-a-lifetime journey to potentially save his life.
We, as students, laid out the criteria of which a person is responsible for another human. After a scant number of comments generally stating what the men did was wrong, leaving the man behind for, what was now exaggerated as certain death, was wrong. I was the person who raised their hand and asserted, according to the criteria (that I didn't even necessarily agree with -- it seemed too liberal), there was no obligation to save the man and that, while not only being a risk to the businessmen, to help the Sadhu could be doing him a disservice as he was on a spiritual journey and experienced in what he was doing. I reasoned that I was talking a utilitarian approach in maximizing the overall utility within the group.
My professor stared at me with shock and even mild concern (whether it was concern for my future or the well being of his students trapped in the room with a person like me, I don't think I'll ever know). Following, he addressed the class and asked if someone had a counter-view or comment about what I said.
Crickets. No one countered or commented. Does that redeem my classmates in my eyes? I don't know. They could have been silent out of fear of confrontation or, perhaps I persuaded them to see my side. Either way, I don't know their overall opinions and that seems like the ultimate form of ineffective discussion and communication.
Even if I am a moral-less student soon to be banished to the dark unknown, at least I can go out with enough honesty and backbone to assert my opinion.
I can't wait to start the group project for that class... seems fun. Right.
I give him directions to the nearest Caribou and, because the music is so loud, I yell said directions at him. Thanks for making the atmosphere so conducive to conversation, Guy. As we drive down the street, I become fully aware that this vintage Mustang is a manual... Before you call me judgmental, I do realize this isn't his fault, but it gave me a headache nonetheless.
We arrive at Caribou. Once inside, being the coffee fein I am, I already know what I want. I politely wait for him to peruse the menu and decide on his decadent treat. After a few seconds, he turns to me and practically whispers in my ear, "I'll just have a small strawberry-banana smoothie." Ok? I try to not take issue that he didn't order a coffee... c'mon, this isn't jamba-juice.
I step forward to order my drink, and after placing said order, step back to let him order on the same ticket. When he DOES NOT MOVE AN INCH, I realize that this White Mocha is on me. Yes... that is right... he made me pay for my own drink. How generous. Looking back I'm wondering if he expected me to pay for his as well? Good joke, Guy.
I'll fast-forward.
In the middle of our conversation, Guy asks how long I had been studying that day. When I respond with 4 hours, he says he can never study for more than 2 hours at a time. 'Shocker,' I think, but instead I politely say, "understandable, when I was in Hawaii it was really hard to study... must be all that sunshine." And then he responds, wait for it... "oh, when were you in Hawaii?"
Remember that key detail I mentioned above. Yes, we MET in Hawaii. THAT must have skipped his mind.
Obviously I just said, "are you serious? No, really... are you serious? How do you think you know me??"
UNBELIEVABLE. Let's just say I had a sudden urge to be back in the comfort of O'Shaugnessy. I downed my drink and basically said, "let's skiddaddle."
He dropped me off on Summit and as he leaned in to, perhaps peck me on the cheek, I smiled, opened the door and bailed.
Worst semi-date ever. The only upside was the nice Caribou barista who gave me an extra shot of espresso for free. Perhaps I wear my emotions...
If dating is a sport... bench me. I'm not cut out for this crap.