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Show Acting Alone Page 3 Reagan became our president-elect. In the meaningless spring of the year of the former TV actor's landslide Sam took his freshman comp-I class to a 3.2 bar. There was nothing else he could do. Inside his stomach was freezing, and he was laughing too much. Sam's students, emboldened by the beer puddles, flipped him the inevitable shit, the obligatory gentle shit: the incalculable weight of his eight years' seniority; his extra layer of gut; his tendency to sermonize for whole class periods, and so on. He looked to Shannon, his little French/Irish A-plus girl, for moral support. Inaccessible, Blithe Shannon is what Sam wanted to whisper in her ear - bestow an epithet on her, lay claim on her. (This was the first time since gradeschool that he'd gotten drunk on 3.2 beer - the humidity, must be the humidity.) Without her teaching instructor knowing whether it was intentionally or unintentionally, Shannon distracted the students' attention away from Sam by showing everybody how she could pop all her knuckles but one. She kept using the word dipwad, her little breasts pointing straight up, erupting like Mount Saint etc. The song on the loudspeakers was one that unhip Sam had never heard. It went as follows: Hoo-yah, hoo-yah ugly mommy, ugly baby; I always say - hoo-yah, hoo-yah ugly mommy, oogly baby |