Hairball

Because I was a psych major, I had the opportunity--no, the privilege--of taking inspiring and uplifting courses like Aging and Death. Every time I went to class, it was like going to a funeral. The professor who taught it was even nicknamed Dr. Death. I'm not sure that he had ever even cracked a smile . . . at least not before having me in his class. And then there was only the one time.

My roommate Alicia and I took Aging and Death together. We figured if we were going to have to endure something that painful, we might as well suffer together. Alicia and I seemed to almost always be lauging about something. We were about as silly as they come (I think it was a defense mechanism that kicked in automatically because we had to endure such depressing lecures). This one particular day, we were sitting in class in the middle of some gosh-awful lecture, and she was laughing about something. Alicia had this great "Muttley laugh"--you know, the kind where the only real sound that comes out is a sort of wheezing noise. Now, I have friends who have nicknamed me The Woman of a Thousand Laughs, but would you believe that a Muttley laugh is not one of them?? This has greatly distressed me, and I have often tried my hardest to manufacture one. Unfortunately, I chose that particular day to do it again.

There we were in the middle of class with Dr. Death droning on about . . . well, death . . . and right then and there I fervently attempted my Muttley laugh. I mustered up my best wheeze, and was starting to feel really proud of myself until . . .

A breathy but very loud noise escaped without warning from the depths of my throat. It was pretty much as though I had just YELLED. Right there in class. In the middle of the lecture. Naturally, all eyes were instantly on me, including those of the infamous Dr. Death himself. You could seriously have heard the proverbial pin drop. What could I do--I was laughing so hard my side was splitting, but wanting to hide under the closest rock. Luckily for me, Alicia had the presence of mind to holler out through her laughter and tears, "Hairball!!!" At that moment, the class erupted in laughter, and even Dr. Death almost chuckled. It broke the uncomfortable silence and soon after, we resumed class as usual. Perhaps that was our lot in life--Alicia and me. To help a man who lived and breathed death, to grin for just a second.