Putting my foot in it

A few weeks ago I was thumbing through the Scottsdale Community College advertising when I noticed they had ballroom dancing lessons. You might not believe this but I used to do just that, back in 1974 and great fun it was too. As I said at the time, and my opinion hasn't changed, it has the great advantage that you get to hold your partner!

So I suggested that Sonya and I might consider it. I think I surprised her but she was nothing loath to go for it. We tried the online booking thang but for some reason it wasn't working so I suggested she give them a call on the Monday (I pulled the foreign accent routine again). That was a week and a half ago; she kept forgetting until today when I sent her an email during the day to remind her.

Fifteen minutes after sending the email my mobile rang; it seemed that, whilst she could be enrolled there and then, I couldn't until I rang their office. Why, you ask? Silly question, as though you didn't know I was going to tell you!

At last years elections there were also a dozen or so propositions to be voted on. They're a bit like a mini referendum. One of them, Prop 300, was aimed at preventing illegal immigrants getting a subsidised education. This proposition was passed. It seems that the college won't enrol any student until after they've read the text of Prop 300 at them and ascertained eligibility for 'in state' tuition fees. Yeah, it seemed just as silly to me as it does to you reading about it. Nonethless I complied and rang the number Sonya kindly emailed to me.

The woman at the other end of the line started laughing when I told her why I was ringing. 'Do you really want me to read prop 300 to you?' she asked. 'Of course' I replied, adding 'but I've already read it.' She seemed surprised. When I told her that I didn't think it all that wise to vote for or agin something if one doesn't understand what it's about she seemed more surprised. But I've been bitten by the vote for something when you don't what that something is[^] bug before!

So she read the text to me and then asked if I was a citizen. I admitted I was. I puzzled a little over the fact that she'd asked that question; hadn't I just said I'd voted on the proposition? It took a few moments for the penny to drop; little point in going through the whole rigamarole without putting the onus on me to explicitly claim that I was eligible for in state tuition.

But the strangest thing of all? Not once did she ask for my name. I could have been Adam for all she knew. It'll be interesting to see if they go through the whole performance again at the first lesson.