I QUEUE FOR IQ ?
recently, firangi boy and me were talking. which in itself is the news. but anyway, in an attempt to keep sarcasm at an all time low here, i will proceed to the interesting part of the conversation.
he claims that when we (me and him) first met, i claimed to have an IQ above 140, in an effort to impress him. when i had finished laughing at this ridiculous claim, i proceeded to argue. that i had never made such a claim. in my defence, i have never considered IQ to be a matter of interest. i mean, yea its really nice to know that shakira has an IQ of 140. but when it comes to my IQ, i could not really be bothered. and it would never occur to me to use that as ammunition in the Battle of the First Impressions. so i strongly disagreed with firangi boy while he claimed that i did say it.
but of course it got me thinking. so i decided to take an IQ test and see if maybe suppleness of the hip bone is indeed in some way connected to the brain cells. and i got to page 4 of 11. 11?? 11 pages of “jack went from x to y in 20 minutes doing 40 kmph . so how many minutes would he take if he did it at 50 kmph”???? zzzzzzzzzzzzzz. i mean there is a reason why i was the maths teacher’s favourite at school. its because i used to carry her books. i used to rub out the chalk board when she was done with class, tell her that she wore nice sarees, sneak to her about my brother etc etc. not because i could efficiently do pie calculations. so the minute i got to the maths questions in the IQ test, i quit.
then i realised that i have good friends. im in love. i have a great job. i have read some amazing books. i have had unforgettable conversations. i have always got anything i’ve always wanted. i wake up in the morning thinking that i’m glad to be alive. and i am on the road to a really great life ahead. so maybe if i can’t measure Jack’s competance of reaching Y from X, maybe its not such a bad thing after all.
and firangi boy will just have to realise that asking me not to go away to paris cuz he wants me here is something he would not tell many people. maybe even someone whose hips don’t lie. and that, my friend, is the moral of the story.
and in case you really want to know, my hips don’t lie either. so there.
