Her name was Nancy. Nancy was odd.
I met a friend of mine last Wednesday as I was walking over to Nancy's house.
"Hello," I said to my friend.
"Oh," said my friend and looked worried. "Hello." By the very way that he said "hello," I knew that he was really saying "Should I know you or are you just a weirdo who has come to make my life a living hell by irritating the fuck out of me?" I am therefore doing this person a great favour by calling them my friend, either that or I am insulting them beyond compare.
"We went to school together," I said and then slowly told him my name.
"Ah yes," he said and repeated my name. This is what he was thinking. "Should I know you or are you just a weirdo who has come to make my life a living hell by irritating the fuck out of me?"
"Grade eleven" I said. I then told him the name of our teacher.
"Ah yes," he said. He then repeated the teachers name. "You're..." he said and stopped dead in his tracks. This is what he then thought. "I do know you. You are a weirdo who has come to make my life a living hell, just like you did back in Grade eleven."
"Yes," I said and nodded gravely. I was smiling inside.
"Ahh," he said and looked very worried. "And what are you up to these days?"
"I'm just going over to Nancy's house."
"Nancy?" He said with alarm. Then he whispered, "She's odd, isn't she?"
"Yes," I said.
"Oh," he said.