He’d Sleep Through Vogon Poetry

(I am a junior in high school when this happens. Because of several medical reasons, before lunch-time rolled around I am pretty heavily lethargic. Despite this, even though my body can’t help but rest, I’m pretty good at filling in the blanks between consciousness and unconsciousness. Before my high school career ends, nearly all my teachers have to put up with me constantly dozing off and falling asleep. All of them except the new English teacher.)

English Teacher: “[My Name].”

Me: *head propped on my hands, eyes closed*

English Teacher: “…[My Name].”

Me: *light snore*

(At this point, I’m not exactly sure what Teacher is doing, and while I want to respond, all I can do is mumble something incoherent and blink my eyes repeatedly as I barely come to. Satisfied that I am “awake,” Teacher continues the lesson on a favorite Shakespearean play, until about five minutes later when my head starts to droop and I fight to stay awake. My friends call it “Bobble-heading,” as it’s obvious I’m trying to fight sleeping, but I look like a bobble-head with how exaggerated and jerky my head is. A minute later…)

Me: *light snore*

English Teacher: *SLAMS a book down on my desk and gets in my face, smirking at her own inane question* “WHAT is this book supposed to teach you?”

Me: *literally jolting out of my seat in fright, I yell the first thing that comes to mind* “FORTY-TWO!”

(The teacher just stares at me with this flabbergasted look, and I have time to glance down at the book and smirk. It’s ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.’)

Me: “Oh, and never forget your towel.”

(Five years later, we still meet up for a cup of coffee to chat about our lives and whatever new books have caught our eye.)