With the recent crop of political scandals and resulting resignations, I felt it would be appropriate to divulge certain information that has haunted me for the past seven years, in the event that I pursue a political career.
This sordid saga has its roots in 2003, involving xanthophobia and, it pains me to say, a bribe.
Yes, a bribe. Perhaps even more ignobly, the exchange took place in a classroom setting. How can I bear myself, knowing that I allowed, even initiated, such a heinous act to permeate a room intended for the molding of our nation's youth.
It all spiraled from the christening of our table groups in the classroom, with a 'wild' or 'horror' theme. As my group was unique in that it consisted of two people, we felt naturally superior and therefore named our table after the most illustrious of supernatural creatures, the [true] vampire.
Meanwhile, a rather large group, who incidentally consisted of some good chums, gave their table a rather plebeian, rather unnecessary long [four words] name.
This drew the laughter and scorn of certain members of the class, including, I am loth to admit, myself.
How could I have participated in this breakdown of civility? Where does that leave my moral compass? How can I profess to want to help the world? This is why I take the story to you, my loyal...loyal...um. You get the point.
As we stood in line by the door, eager to escape to glorious nutrition, ahem, sorry, recess, my teacher, who was actually a very pleasant person, swooped down upon a fellow mocker, and instituted what was to me the most horrible punishment of all: "Change your card!"
He, whom I believe was no stranger to the yellow card, went off to do so, leaving me standing in line with bugged-out eyes that anyone who saw me do French dialogues in eighth grade would be familiar with.
Upon his return, I frantically begged him not to rat me out. I pegged him as one of those kids who would not consider 'niceness' as a mantra. And quite honestly, if I had done the same as him, why should I not receive the same consequences?
You have to see, a yellow card [this ain't soccer] would be an unsightly and horrific blemish on my card score sheet. I prided myself on the fact that my last changed card was in 1999. I strived to be the perfect child in school! Each day we remained green meant we could color our score card green. A month of green=teacher lunch [in school] and usually green Powerade [disgusting]. Neither may seem all that appealing to you, but it was. For some reason.
Anyway, I digress. He stood there with a smirk on his face, stubbornly refusing to cover for me. But then I realized I held immense power between my two hands.
Who could resist the power of the mighty Oreo?
I offered him two of my three Oreos in return for his silence. Perfect.
But not really. This lapse of moral judgment and character has haunted me for years. Only in 2007 did I begin to slowly come to terms with my youthful mistake. But I cannot blame it solely on my youth. What kind of monster was I, committing such evil at such an early age?
That is why I take this to you, in the spirt of full disclosure. I cannot keep this unconscionable act to myself any longer. I do not want this incident to torpedo any future career, but of course, that is definitely not the reason I'm sharing this with you. I know you may it find it hard to forgive my indiscretion, but please, in your hearts, find some room.
Mea Culpa.
