|The humiliation doesn't stop after high school
||[Aug. 27th, 2003|01:46 pm]
Our Property prof began her first class by taking roll aloud, reading through the names and getting her first look at us. Things were fine until she came to the name David Foster. No one responded. She repeated it, then asked if any of us knew Mr. Foster. Middle name Norman. Might go by Dave or Norm.
It wasn’t ringing any bells, and she went on. A few minutes later the door opened and in hustled the fellow who sits just a few seats down from me, running late as he always does.
“Are you David Foster?” Professor Robertson asked. He nodded in reply.
Okay, I think, now I know his name. He’s a good guy but doesn’t ever socialize. But at least now I can say, “Hi, Dave.”
“Do you realize,” the professor continued, “that not one of your classmates knew your name? Not one single person here knew who you were!”
She turned to the rest of us. “Do you recognize him now?”
We all nod and murmur assent. She turned back to David.
“See, now they know who you are. But not a single one of them remembered it before now. Can you believe it?”
By now David was bright red, slouched low in his seat, smiling with gritted teeth, and everyone around is mortified for him and I’m thinking, oh my god, shut UP!. I’m certain that she thought she was admonishing us, but could you possibly say any more clearly to a guy, “Hey, you’re such a nobody that there isn’t a single person in this room who knew you. Talk about your losers!”
For what it’s worth, we won’t forget him again.