Part 6 of the Java Journals: a series which documents my various coffee shop encounters during 2016.
Sometimes I wonder in disbelief about how I always managed to recruit study companions during exam times. Mostly because, my circuitous style of mastering content leaves all participants subject to stories, metaphors, and weird mnemonic devices.
For example, one day I insisted my Starbucks study group trio speak only in British accents. Twenty minutes into a rather posh pop quizzing session, I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. A young man with light colored hair stood there; unfortunately, that’s about the only detail I can remember. He possessed such a stealthy demeanor that by the time I noticed the paper note in front of me, he had already made a swift and silent exit of the premise. The study group paused in curiosity as I opened the paper to read his untidy scroll. It began,
“Your voice as melodious as an angel choir. One word is all it takes to light a fire.”
Wow, I thought. Maybe an accent section of my audio blog would increase the inspiration levels of my listenership. I kept reading. The poem commenced with the event of our lonely souls merging for a lifetime of happiness, and concluded with an invitation to text. To be fair, I did appreciate his employment of the good old ABAB rhyme scheme, however, I just couldn’t agree to add fuel to this fire.
Partially because, completing a lonely soul is a tall an order—and not in the Starbucks sense of tall. Also, I felt like a fraud. See, this mysterious man, more than anything else, liked my voice. Apparently, my voice reminded him of a goddess, lit a fire, and “instilled a strong craving.” Perhaps in normal contexts, these could serve as flattering compliments for someone who sings, writes, or speaks. But in this case, my vocal chords sent a misleading signal. I realized the only voice he could have possibly overheard was my fake British—posh with hints of cockney, to be specific—accent explanation of PNF stretching.