Thread by @TheRealDoctorT

This thread is not a medical narrative. There’s no theme here, and no tears.

Honest.

No pensive last line. No insight. Nada.

Instead, this thread is about a nerdy teenager who is about to make the most awkward first impression in human history.

So let’s rewind.

To 1997. /1

1997. The year of Tubthumping, I’ll Be Missing You, Building a Mystery, and Bitter Sweet Symphony.

And Karma Police. And Barbie Girl.

And Backstreet Boys. And Usher.

And... dear God... MMMbop.

Ok, I lied.

There’s going to be tears. 2/

The nerdy teen in the story?

Yes. It’s me. Your friendly neighborhood nephrologist.

Except back then I was nowhere near as cool as I am now. Back then I wore a Foo Fighters shirt and jeans.

And now I wear a Darth Vader tie and a little pin that says “Hello Kidney!”

Badass. 3/

1997 was a big year for me. My father used to work for an oil company, so my childhood was spent all over the world. Most of my education was in the British school system.

1997 was the year we moved back to the land of my birth.

America.

Where Titanic was reigning supreme. 4/

As children, my sister and I weren’t allowed to watch TV beyond an hour on the weekends, and evening news with our parents.

We were allowed to read as much as we wanted.

The habit stayed with me. I wasn’t plugged into pop culture.

I was plugged into Poe, Austen, Crichton. 5/

So I basically had no idea what an American school was like.

On my first day, I show up in a crisp white shirt and ironed pants, with a green and navy blue striped tie (my house colors from my British school days).

In my shirt pocket is my fountain pen, royal blue ink. 6/

I’ve been raised to believe that school is a privilege not every kid gets. It’s a gift that will open doors for me. I am to treat it with respect, so I dress the part.

And teachers? They are like surrogate parents. I will respect them above all else, and always listen. 7/

So imagine my surprise as I step into a world that is utterly chaotic to my British sensibilities.

Almost immediately I’m a target for a good amount of well-deserved ridicule, since I look like a miniature principal.

One kid makes friends with me quickly.

His name is Chris. 8/

He takes me under his wing and shows me my locker (up until then I have a duffel bag in which I carry every single textbook).

Much later I will discover that Chris’ little brother died of some form of cancer.

He is an older brother to everyone now.

Including me. 9/

One day I’m sitting in math class (I can’t remember if it was trigonometry or precalculus or whatever), and realize I don’t have an eraser.

This is where a teensy bit of linguistic confusion will be my undoing.

In the British schools, we called an eraser a “rubber.”

Ahem. 10/

“Psst. Chris.”

“What?”

“You got a rubber?”

“WHAT?!”

“Shh! A rubber! I need a rubber.”

“A rubber? Right now?”

“What do you mean right now? We’re in class, of COURSE right now. Duh!”

“Dude... I... I don’t get it.”

So I clear my throat loudly and raise my hand... 11/

The teacher quirks a brow, since the miniature principal is requesting to speak.

Everyone looks at me.

“Hey everyone. I’m new. Sayed. Hi. Nice to meet you. Anyways, I really need a rubber. Anyone got one?”

Instant. Chaos.

Howls. Of. Laughter.

I. Don’t. Get. It. 12/

Chris is ferociously protective, yelling at people to shut up. “He doesn’t get it! He means an eraser! That’s all! Stop! He doesn’t get it!”

And then I get it.

...

So...

Well...

In case you ever wonder how I handle the high stress in the threads I post.

It’s NOTHING.