Have you seen this little story that has been making the rounds on social media for who knows how long? I don't know if it is true or not but it doesn't matter for my purposes in sharing it. Here, I'll link you right to the story on snopes so you can get the relatively unvarnished version:
http://www.snopes.com/college/exam/socialism.asp
Basically the story goes that a professor wants to teach his students about socialism so he says he will average the grade of everyone that takes the tests and that will be the grade everyone receives. If ten students take the test and the average is a B then everyone in the class will receive a B regardless of whether they took the test or not. The first test goes fine. The second test so-so. The third test not so much. The story ends with everyone getting lazy and no one taking the last tests because they are counting on someone else to take them and as a result everyone fails. That's supposed to be a good illustration of socialism.
Personally I don't know if it's a good illustration of socialism or not. I am not a political scientist. I am not a socialist. I have only a working academic notion of what constitutes socialism. I'm not even all that social. That's not why I am writing about this, however. The reason I am writing about this is because this story makes me angry. I'll tell you why: I am the student that would take all the tests and get As on them regardless of how many of my classmates showed up. Why you ask? Because regardless of what everyone else in the class is or isn't doing, my grade depends on what I am doing. If I have to carry the weight of the entire class in order to pass the stupid thing then I will jump through that hoop and pass it, regardless of whatever hair brained, self serving, foolish, social experiment the professor is running in order to prove a point- and when I am done and have ruined Herr Professors little "experiment" I will take my passing grade and good riddance. That's me. That's who I am. I won't have learned anything about socialism, because you know, I am there to pass a required college course so I can move on to have the free time to actually learn about things like socialism if I so choose, not risk it all on the foibles of my peers. In so doing however, I will have destroyed the "lesson" the professor was trying to teach at our expense.
And there it is. I am the exception. The ruiner of social theories. The destroyer of norms. The aberration in the curve. The reason it makes me angry is because every time some Bozo tries to make a point by subjecting people to who-knows-what foolishness I am always the nut that winds up sticking out from the crowd. I ruin the "experiment". I draw an unwarranted amount of attention to myself. I am Boo Radley thrust unexpectedly into the front yard in the light of day trying to explain to Scout and Atticus Finch and everyone else in town what in the world I am up to. I DO NOT like doing that. I really don't like the spotlight. I am agoraphobic remember? Yet I keep running into situations that make me stand out.
I don't mean to stand out. It continues to happen simply as a natural consequence of my personality. I call people out because I am sincere and literal and that never plays well in a con game. The problem is the world is full of con games. Or social experiments. Or teaching moments. Or life lessons. Or advertisements. Or whatever you want to call them. They all have one thing in common: they are designed to trick people. Out of their money. Into learning something. Into voting a certain way. Into performing some task. You name it, there is a con for it.
I walk through the world with my wife and kids and, despite not wanting to be there in the first place, I am the one that always gets accosted by the snake oil salesman. Probably because I smile a lot and resemble Opie. So when Captain Mysterious and his Guaranteed Dietetic Electrolyte Energy Inducer attempt to use me as an example of a person that is in need of their marvelous elixir, I fail. When the professor tries to teach the class a "lesson" I ruin the curve. Whenever the con goes down I have a knack for unwittingly disrupting it.
---Maybe they try to step on my foot and push me over to demonstrate my imbalance without their magic bracelet and I stand firm because well, I have no desire to fall over.
---Maybe they try to convince everyone that now is the time to buy an annuity by asking me what the London Interbank Offered Rate is to demonstrate how financially uninformed we all are and I happen to know the current answer.
---Maybe they try to convince the room that timeshares are an excellent investment by asking me what I would pay for a Hawaiian adventure and I happen to know what the going rate for a 4 star hotel room in Hawaii is and boy does that make the timeshare next door look bad.
---Maybe they try to sell the crowd on thousand dollar cookware by using me as a launch to explain anodized aluminum and I already know what anodized aluminum is and that Calphalon is "spun" and about 800 dollars cheaper.
---Maybe they try to cut down the numbers of the enormous class by telling stupid stories and doing things that make everyone want to drop the class and I raise my hand and say "Are you trying to get a bunch of us to drop your class?"
---Maybe they try and teach a bunch of students about socialism by using human nature to flunk them out of the class and I go ahead and take every test and get As and we all pass.
In short I ruin the gig. I am Billy Mays worst nightmare (rest his soul!). I am the ShamWow guys tough room. I am the clever professors Toto pulling his curtain aside. It ruins their con and what's worse is it draws attention to myself.
I do fight my agoraphobia, you know. I make myself get out in the world. I engage with people against my better judgment. I purposely stay out of the dark corner at Chik Fil A and sit at the well lit table by the playground. Time and again though it sets me up. I carry the class and destroy the con, usually out of pragmatism and my own quirky nature. So the social experiment story makes me angry. I am just terrible at playing along with cons and it winds up putting me in situations I dislike. Time and again.
Frankly my dark, quiet closet upstairs is comforting and safe. I prefer it. Though just between you and me my wife has a red coat hanging in there that wants me to try it on. Another con I'm sure.
Honey why are you wearing my red coat?
I don't know? Say this thing is pretty nice. Why don't you ever wear it?
Are you calling me fat?
Yep. I knew it.
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