Irrefutably right

I love being irrefutably right -- especially when up against a worthy opponent.

A few years ago I was taking a full course load of classes when suddenly it was the end of the semester. My family had been planning on a holiday during the time I was scheduled to write my finals and, up until the weather turned gorgeous, I didn't really care that they were leaving me behind.

But I had a severe case of spring fever, which I get each year, so I asked all my profs if I could write my exams early. All but one, a very serious, young political science instructor who taught my Canadian Politics class, agreed.

And even with all my powers of persuasion and sad eyes, I could not convince him.

So instead of writing my final papers, I tried to come up with something to convince him. Finally brilliance struck when I was reading a copy of the Canadian Constitution. This prof was very Kant-ian; he loved rules, lived by rules, and shared that strange passion in each class.

So I wrote him a letter, explaining how he was personally breaking the rules of the country in refusing to let me write the exam early. I explained how he was unconsitutionally limiting my rights to associate with those of my choosing (ie. my family), to move unimpeded across the country at will, and to gather to discuss political and religious thought (again with my family).

I sat and watched him read the letter. When he finished he turned to me, frowned, and said, "So when do you want to write the final?"

Sweet victory. And it turned out to be a lovely holiday, thank you.