TBF exams (part 2)

"What are TBF exams?" Coming from the middle row, a muscular young man boldly ventured a question.

I say boldly: Awkward situations perpetuate themselves by their very awkwardness. A firm belief of mine dictates the stiff mood be swiftly broken. My weapon is humor.

Busting from attic-yellow, short sleeves, sculpted biceps betrayed a less well-groomed mind. Or so I thought. This would-be jock displayed the characteristic boldness of the uninformed, and dressed the part. But beneath the elaborate disguise: a mind!

A clever, social ruse. He saw through mine, when I couldn't penetrate his.

"I hope you've looked at the Marx reading," my friend Rebecca said, "I can't stress enough how dense this text is. You first year students might be surprised. So, don't put it off until the last week." Thick, black frames snugged her swollen, Swiss cheeks. Her timid confidence betrayed her position: a third-year grad student, familiar, but not yet expert at what she professed.

I floated in my chair. My body was rooted only physically; every faculty of mine pondered on what soon lay ahead. Computing every possible reaction at blood thumping speed, my mind hurried to imagine the rapidly approaching future. My right calve furiously pumped a nervous leg. Get on with it, Rebecca.

"...we have a special guest." A cue of sorts, Rebecca's words pierced through the fog of anxiety.

It really was nice what she was doing. This opportunity for practice. No turning back now. With all the energy of a meth-amphetimine user, I strode to the front of the classroom. Formal introductions out of the way, it was up to me to interrupt the silence.

"I am Lord Dorman, from Lithuania." My lips were straight, my jaw set. "Most of you have probably never been around royalty before." I glanced quickly at Rebecca, who had a most inquisitive look. She had as little idea of where I was going as the rest of the audience.

"The proper way to address me is, 'Ser.'" Briefly showing my back, I displayed the correct spelling on the white board. Turning once more to the class, it was evident I had upped the ante. Confusion, even a little anger, marked students' faces. The tension, the awkwardness, the sense of disturbance, all had reached climatic levels. One thing was for sure: nobody knew what to think.

"I am currently studying for my TBF exams, which Rebecca was kind enough to help with." The hook was well on its way, but I wanted to stretch the mood to its capacity.

Enter muscleman. "What are TBF exams?"

Well played. My anxious prophesying hadn't envisioned someone picking this out. I thought I could slip in the vague reference, an intimate joke with myself. Not, "Where in Lithuania?" Not, "Wow, umm..Ser, Why the University of Arizona?" Of all the things to focus on, this young man chose, what I felt, the most innocuous. Well played.