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When I was in about 8th grade, I had a history teacher bet me a case of pop that he could prove 1+1 did not equal 2. I said okay, and he told me to come in tomorrow and he’d have the proof on the board.
He was also our football coach and taught several grades. I went to a small k12 in the country. He was generally liked by the students but didn’t much like smart kids so he was a real smug prick about it.
That evening I mentioned it to my dad. He smirked and told me he knew exactly what was about to happen. Bear in mind this was pre broadband and I wasn’t going to crawl gopher at 9600 to find it, so it was good my dad is a nerdy engineer.
Next day; knowing he’d have a divide by zero issue somewhere in a sea of math salad, I walked into his class. It wasn’t my class but the first of the day. Kids a few years older, looking at me askance and laughing as he smugly said nothing but pointed me to the board, where there was predictably a math salad, tons of variables and algebra.
I think he expected me to crunch for a while… really chew on it, so he went right back to lecture. About 10 seconds later, I saw it, and just turned and looked at him, waiting patiently. He didn’t see me, but the class changed. A small din rose and the older kids started smirking and whispering.
He had such a shitty look when he turned to me, “I’ll take Diet,” he said.
“Really?” … “You can’t divide by zero.”
“I didn’t.”
“Right here, coach. x-y here is zero in the denominator. Better luck next time. I’ll take Cherry Coke.“ And I walked out, like a movie arsonist walking away from the fire. In my head, I was screaming. My heart beat like I’d run up a mountain.
Only silence was left in my wake that day. I was, for one day, the coolest bloke in town. I didn’t get the girl or anything, but there was Cherry Coke for the class the next day when I arrived.