Anyway, this particular day I had a test to take. But I had a scantron not. So I did the usual roar around the parking garage for twenty minutes swearing and pounding my fists on the innocent console thingy while listening to some U2 song against my will as time marches on. When I finally find a space, I run to the bookstore (it was more of a trot) which is waaay on the other side of campus.
When I finally get there I grab a year's supply worth of scantrons so that, conceivably, I will never have to trot clear across campus again in this lifetime. And as I'm doing this, some lady to the side of me is waving ecstatically and instructing me to "pick a ball off the tree and win a prize." I try to pretend like she doesn't exist, but she's not having any of it. Meanwhile the temperature in the building seems to have heated to well over that of the sun's surface and further inspection of my wallet reveals that I only have enough for 4.5 scantrons, and not 300.
So I'm frantically counting scantrons and quietly withstanding the pain of the papercuts digging into my flesh when the lady physically touches me and jovially demands I pick a ball off the tree and win a prize. My brow furrows and I can just feel the words "LADY I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR FUCKING BALLS" brewing in the depths of my innards. I envision the Pat Benatar song over the speakers stopping abrubtly and the entire bookstore population staring at me. So I make a little fist of fury and close my mouth in order not to. When she asks me one more time, I violently snatch a ball off the tree and read it aloud: "bear."
She hands me a little pastel, sweatshirt wearing bear whose foot is inscribed with the suggestion of having a Merry Christmas. Then she tells me to do just that. Pastel stuffed bears are one of my favorite things in the world.
I felt like such an ass. I think in the future, I will be more receptive when people randomly offer me free balls.