I feel like every single day of my life my sneaking suspicion that I’m not quite like everyone else gets confirmed. That’s not to say that I’m BETTER than everyone (though, come on, you know I am), it’s just that I seem to be on a slightly different frequency. Last week I had another fine example of this characteristic that defines me when I became convinced, while in line for Domino’s Pizza vouchers, that I had in fact died.
I suppose some context would be helpful. Because I like to collect flyers and other things that I’ll simply throw away later, I decided to go to the Freshers’ Fair, which (for my American readers) is the university’s activities fair. After carefully considering which clubs sounded the most appealing in my thoughtful and discriminating mind, I ended by signing up for any group that harassed me into giving them my e-mail address. So basically I’m now a member of everything. Of my own free will I signed up for the Doctor Who Club (run by people who, quite predictably, make me look like I have social skills), the Walking Club, and the Conservatives.
So anyway, towards the end there was a line where you could get coupons and vouchers for Domino’s Pizza. I didn’t even really want Domino’s Pizza because I’ve been eating so much cake that if I eat even one slice of pizza I think my pants are just going to concede defeat and split open. “You win this time, Sam’s Caloric Intake,” they’ll sigh as they wave the white flag of my underwear. But everyone else seemed so excited about the free pizza, and I so badly wanted to fit in…so I stood in line.
A pimply employee came down the line handing out vouchers, one for each student, while we waited in line to get to the main table. I saw him come down the line, closer and closer to me, handing a voucher to the person in front of me, walking right past me, then handing a voucher to the person behind me. Not wanting to make a big deal out of not receiving something I didn’t even want in the first place, I just shut up and continued to stand in line. But then two people walked in and, without even noticing my existence, cut the line right in front of me.
It was at this point that I realized that something was up. I appeared to be invisible. “Aw shit,” I calmly observed, “I’m dead, aren’t I.” Wracking my brain I tried to deduce how exactly I managed to die at Fresher’s Fair, I realized that I didn’t particularly give a shit how I died now that I was dead. To be honest, the five minutes in which I thought I was dead I was probably the least scared of death I’ve ever been in my life. Like, if this is how calm and relaxed I’ll be when the time actually comes, I mean, I’m good to go.
After a couple minutes of just standing around taking in my newfound mortality, my first plan of action as a dead person was to decide to go to the movie theater. I figured that I may be dead, but the awesome thing about this version of death, that is being an invisible person that still walks the Earth as a ghost or spirit or whatever, is that at least I can go to the movies for free now. I looked at my watch and wondered if I could make the matinee of “The Lion King.”
Taking my first steps as a confirmed dead person, I strode towards the door with the confidence of someone who knows that from now on clothing is optional—and I immediately bumped into someone. “Oh, pardon me,” he Englishly apologized on my behalf. At that point I rather loudly thought out loud, “Shit!” and the poor polite guy probably assumed that I was some kind of a nut who swears at people after colliding with them. But no, the truth is that I wasn’t pissed off at this guy for getting in my way. The truth was that I was just pissed off I wasn’t dead because now I have to pay 12 bucks to go see “The Lion King” in 3D.
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