I once saw Taming of the Shrew.
It was a class trip. Optional. Except, I hate Shakespeare. He is the most overrated literary figure. Ever.
However, she was severely cute. So, I went, but not without my bible.
I was raised Catholic. Then school happened. Instilled in me were draconian demands for textual evidence to support a thesis, or experimental data to support a hypothesis. The entire academic system and structure is predicated on fact. This ruined my child-like jubilance and imagination, my faith. I once believed in Santa. And, I once believed in God.
But now, I know better.
A bachelor’s degree later, and I’m sure it wasn’t Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John, but SparkNotes. Our bible, No Fear Shakespeare, the most sacred of texts, was authored by SparkNotes.
The blasphemy!
But hear ye, hear ye, Mark wasn’t helping us make sense of “Be she as foul as was Florentius’ love,
As old as Sibyl, and as curst and shrewd, As Socrates’ Xanthippe or a worse, She moves me not—or not removes at least”. No. It was teacher Tom, the zealous litigious hermit translating for SparkNotes from his cave in Cornish, Vermont that saved every single one of us from an academic probationary purgatory.
Thanks Tom. And for those few kids in class who didn’t need Tom’s help, I think we can all agree…
Fuck you. All you some hoes. Oxford hoes.
But, I digress. The point being, I both sucked at, and hated Shakespeare. Surprising. Still, I went to that damn play, our bible in hand. And, in case you were wondering, it did indeed suck ass. But, this girl.
Navy regulations used to require women to have hair cuts/lengths above their shoulders, and it ruins most. For this girl though, she so effortlessly rocked the cutest, most innocent blonde bob when she walked into the room for the first day of classes. To match, she would flash this smile, and work fast to hide it. It was as if she felt guilty for letting it escape the corners of her lips. Naughty, almost. Of course I sat next to her. I was crushing hard.
But, all the other guys were too. So, two squares decided they would sit in between us on the second day of classes. Then, the teacher assigned us seats like we were in elementary school.
Everyone knows that seats don’t change after day one. It’s weird, but it’s code. Now, I was a four when she was a one. We were never in the same groups for class activities, nor projects. We never spoke much as a result. I didn’t even know what perfumes she wore, if any at all. There was an ocean between us.
It was an absolute tragedy. Romeo and Juliet could never.
She went on to marry the valedictorian. Good for her. He was quite a boring character though. Let’s call him Corn Flake. And luckily, years were less kind to her than I. Otherwise, I would have been jealous.
So, in the case you are thinking about going to see that play, don’t. She wasn’t going to be all that pretty after all.
