The Geometry Test
- I remember that in high school I suffered from an acute fear of
mathematics. Most specifically, this manifested during my first
geometry course. I just couldn't bring myself to get with the program.
Until mid-terms, I was pretty much able to bluff it.
Some friends of mine formed a support group for me and we would meet
after school in an attempt to overcome my fears. Coming up on the big
test though, I knew I was in trouble.
Usually, I like to consider myself a fairly honest person. But the
distinction between honesty and it's evil counterpart blurred that
semester when an acquaintance who shall remain nameless handed me the
very geometry test I was supposed to take the next day... with all the
That night, in the (dis) comfort of my room, I pondered. What should I
I probably should just take the lumps and suffer through the
humiliation of a bad grade. But fear of parental retribution and a
huge drop in my grade point average managed to convince me that,
although that is what I *should* do, it is decidedly not what I
I settled for a happy medium. I would look at the answers (purely as a
study guide, you understand) the next day during classes, but would
not take them to the test with me.
Feeling that strange rush of a moral dilemma solved on the somewhat
hazy side of honesty, I decided to study the notes that night, as well.
I went to the kitchen to fix myself a snack and laid the answer sheet
out on the counter, next to the cookbooks.
With the previously described energy burst, I knew that no simple
snack would do, so I rummaged in the cupboards.... ah. Jell-O (tm)
desserts. I hate that jiggly stuff though. Let's go with tapioca.
I laid the pouch down next to the cookbooks, while I got out the
requisite utensils. It was the best tapioca I have ever tasted.
Creamy, smooth, a thumbs up effort to be sure.
Satisfied, and with all else forgotten, I went to bed.
The next day, I arrived at school feeling somewhat chipper.
My first class was German, where I was the teacher's assistant. This
consisted largely of sitting in the back of the room and looking aloof
when the other students had questions. A perfect opportunity for study.
I rummaged through my book bag looking for the answer sheet.
Hmmm... I found my math book. Pencils. Various scraps of paper with
"to do" lists on them.
Oh no! It wasn't there. What was I going to do?
I retraced my steps in my mind, trying to figure out where I could
have left it. Let's see, the last time I had it out, where was I?
Suddenly, it occurred to me. I could only bury my head in my hands and
The last time I had seen that sheet was last night in the kitchen, but
it wasn't there this morning.
That could only mean one thing. The proofs were in the pudding.