Yes, how well I remember the miseries of high school, those years of adolescent angst. If I do not care to get reacquainted with those haughty arrogant snobs who sat on my left and right hand sides during 10th grade English, Carmen and maybe Patty, although I really don't remember, thus to snub me throughout high school, how is that a national crisis? I am not such a party animal that I would care to reconnect to such dreary bores with all of the personality of a cardboard box. How is this personal opinion a test of my U.S. citizenship? Where is the law requiring me to like them? How is this a normal experience of high school? Now that I am home in the United States, I would finally now be entirely free of those dreary boring snobs, if only you would just shut up.
But you say that you want drama. You want some action for a play or movie. Are you crazy?
I like to think that I have reached a level of maturity wherein I can no longer be expected to pitch a knee-jerk-reaction fit on demand, just because you are pushing some interesting buttons.
You were trying to throw me out of the classroom, into the hallway, so that some other person could occupy my chair. Yes, I did not notice that, but, whatever. I cannot quite see where that is coming from or why I should care to fulfill your outlandish expectations of a rewrite of history. Well, that is a two-street. Needless to say.
