I was in my Human Sexuality class, and my usual professor, the ultra-cool Tammy, had her position revoked because she was late to class too often. They replaced Tammy with a lady named Karen who didn't even have a degree in Psychology. She conducted all her lectures in rap format. To punish Tammy, Karen made her sit in the front row and endure all her rap lectures about sex.
Because Tammy had taken my usual seat in the front row, I was stuck sitting in the doorway, facing the rest of the fairly large class. This made me nervous.
At the end of lecture, the new instructor announced our weekend homework: we were to smoke one twenty-fifth of an ounce of marijuana. The instructor had a bag of marijuana sitting on a front table in the classroom for those of us who didn't smoke it regularly or who couldn't get the drug from friends. No one else from the class was taking marijuana from the bag, however; I knew I would be embarrassed if I was the only one who didn't have any pot-smoking friends.
So I left class without taking pot from the instructor's bag, hoping I would find some way to complete my weekend homework.
