Tessellation n. (Tes`sel*la"tion) - 1. The act of forming into a mosaic pattern, as by using small squares of stone or glass. 2. A Two-Dimensional Shape that will cover a flat plane infinitely, in all directions. Fall 1997. The second year of college. I still lived in the Honor's Dorm, but I had a room to myself, which was totally pimped out into a smart kid's make-out den. I was President of my floor, and much more popular than I had ever been in public school. I was in Tessellations class. That was my Honor's Math credit for the semester. Honor's kids get silly little froth classes, instead of real subjects... that is if that is what interests you. And at the time I was interested in a silly little froth class. A class with absolutely no Real World Application. Yay! I can Tessellate! Hooray! I've cornered the Penrose job market, now I can compete with Escher... which will be very easy since he's dead. There was this incredibly spooky girl in this class; another honor's student who also wanted an easy math credit. Her name was Desty. She had Mennonite hair and an entire wardrobe of T-Shirts in varying shades of black. She loved Metallica and was generally creepy and annoying. For some reason or another she homed in on me as a kindred spirit. As her one and only chance for true love in a world of bubblegum pop and cheerful, amiable people. Which totatally confounded me since I was one of those bubblegum pop-listening generally cheerful and amiable people. But I suppose that Paula Abdul and DJ Skat Kat were right when they told us that opposites attract... or actually they were only partly right since only one of the opposites was attracted to the other opposite who wanted nothing at all to do with the first opposite. One fine day I'm coming down the elevator into the lobby and, I guess she had been stalking my movements and routines, because she was waiting for me down in the lobby. Actually that's not precisely true. She was in the lobby, but if that was the only place she had been I would have been able to escape. Where she was waiting for me was in the elevator landing. I come out of the elevator and BAM, there's Desty. I'm cornered with no escape. But honestly there was no need for escape at this point. I had no inkling of her machinations for cornering me, and as I said before I was generally cheerful and amiable so it didn't seem odd at all to me that she wanted to chat. I made no move to reach the lobby where I would have had a better chance of escape when the conversation made that awkward and uncomfortable turn. So there I am, cornered in the elevator lobby, with Desty talking to me. It didn't seem odd at all. I should have been immediately tipped off by the fact that she had begun watching MTV after midnight with Darque and I. We would talk to her a little, but for the most part, attempted to ignore her. She never got this not so subtle hint that we didn't enjoy her company. Oh well. So there we are in the landing. I'm cornered and she is blocking my escape. The conversation takes this abrupt turn. She starts telling me that we are soul mates, that we are destined for each other. She tells me that she read all of this in the stars and that we have always been predestined to be with each other since time immemorial. She's asking me intrusive questions about what I like and what I do and concurring with each and every thing I say. Did I mention that I can't escape? At this point I would like to point out how stupid a roomful of "smart" kids truly is. Right there is the lobby, full of couches and "honor's" kids sitting and chatting, but completely oblivious to my awkward and intrusive social situation. I'm being prodded to agree with her that we are soul mates, and I don't have an answer that will satisfy her. "No, I'm pretty sure that we're not," doesn't seem to be doing the trick. So there's an entire fleet of kids that claim to be really smart and obviously they weren't, because the next thing I'm doing is dipping into my Boy Scout Knowledge. I lean against the wall with my arms behind me, hands against the tile. She's leaning in. I begin to tap out SOS on the wall. Dot Dot Dot, Dash Dash Dash, Dot Dot Dot Dot Dot Dot, Dash Dash Dash, Dot Dot Dot. An entire lobby full of kids that have survived public education by being "smarter" than everyone else, and none of them are picking up on my distress call. People! It's fucking SOS! Am I the only person in an entire dorm of honor's kids that knows Morse Code? Apparently. And here's where the memory gets fuzzy. I don't remember how I escaped, but I apparently did. Later I'm telling Darque about my ordeal and he says he didn't do anything to rescue me because I seemed to be enjoying the conversation. Yes, it's true there was a smile on my face, but that was just a façade to mask the panic being tapped out by my fingers. That's why it's rather useless to be a cheerful, amiable person. You're not allowed to tell people how creepy they are and to please leave you the fuck alone... you know, without a smile on your face.