The Physics Major

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When I think on the most frightening thing possible, I have a certain image in my mind. It's me in about three years. I can see it now -- I'll clear a wide path through the halls just by the sheer monstrosity of my presence; people will be scared; people will run; people will hide -- not from my physical build or appearance, which is admittedly lacking, but from total and utter dorkdom.

Nobody can long withstand the negative social powers of a truly skilled dork. Before long, the stare of eyes that are blood-shot from studying long hours and the audacity of the non-concealed pocket protector will defeat even the best of the social butterflies. Conversation with me will consist mostly of complicated quations and analyses of various objects in the room on a scientific basis, let's imagine a party:

"Hey bud, check out that girl over there. Man, she's hot!"

"Well, actually, her ambient temperature is not unusual relative to anyone else in this room. If you examine her closely, as I see you are, you will notice that her black-body radiation is solely in the infrared. This indicates a fairly low temperature in the first place. But hey -- check out how she walks. Very efficient transfer of forces."

Nobody could tolerate someone like this for very long, including me. I don't want to turn into this "thing". However, it's like someone who turns into a werewolf. They don't want it to happen, but it's inevitable upon each full moon. At least sporadically I'll be forced to morph into the monster that is the Physics Major in order to make the grade. Most of the time, though, I'll be a perfectly normal college student...but if you dare to roam the halls of my campus after dark, and there is a strange something that moans Newton's laws and appears to be carrying all of the physics texts in the school, beware the fearsome physics major.

Peace.
Andrew W. 10/97

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