Back in school I liked to show off when writing essays, always trying to pull off some big twist — start off plain and then suddenly swerve at the end to surprise the reader.
But the teacher never gave me the chance in regular assignments. Every topic was something like “A Meaningful Day,” “A Meaningful Event,” “The Wall Clock at Home” — all required to be positive and wholesome. I couldn’t write about helping an old lady cross the street and then having her suddenly leer, drop her pants, and reveal she was actually an old man with a huge dick all along. Nor could I end an essay about the clock at home by turning it into a vibrator. Then one day, an exam gave us a topic essay that let me go wild: how to express the hypocrisy between people.
Just as I was excitedly plotting out a story about a righteous-seeming hypocrite with a big twist at the end revealing he’s actually a vile, cunning bastard, I ran into a problem:
I ran out of grid paper!
With less than half a page left, my plot was only just getting started…
The exam paper didn’t exactly have extra space to write either. After weighing it for a while, I started compressing the ending — compress, compress, compress — until it was crammed into a few sentences and just ended. The final piece read as utterly baffling: a guy who’d been proper and serious the whole time suddenly turned into a piece of shit, with exactly one line of explanation in between…
The teacher looked at me with a mocking eye and consoled me, telling me not to be so presumptuous writing this kind of boring stuff next time, and to stick with argumentative essays which are more reliable.
Sure, her words were very tactful and encouraging, but that look was clearly the look you give someone who just failed spectacularly at showing off.
Anyway, years later I don’t have to worry about length limits anymore. But I never imagined I’d get to experience that same look and attitude from the teacher again.
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