I mentioned awhile back that I was taking a class this quarter called, "Surprise! There Might Be Pie!" I plan on taking it again next quarter.

This is the blurb for it:

"This class might be cool, it might not be cool, it�s a surprise! Do you know an average of 83% of all people experience at lease one surprise in their lifetime. Well, this class is aimed to bring that 83% ro 100%. It will explore the depths of what it means to be Wowed and Awed and Whoaed. So come and explore all the W.A.W.s. With every class there will be different experience, you might learn cooking in one class, you might learn cold fusion the next class. It�s a brab bag class, and as always there might be a pie."

I took notes on the first class I went to, because it was very surreal and amusing. The whole thing struck me as being really dadaist. And as I mentioned before, I kept losing said notes. Well, I have found them, and I am writing this down before it becomes too late!

The first night...

A blonde guy came walking in, carrying a big toy box- I can't really describe it , but the best description I can give you is that it was sort of a busy box and had a xylophone on it, random plastic wires coming out one side, things like that- and a pinata in the shape of a horse. He said his name was BJ, but we were not to make jokes about that.

He told us that the pinata was named Charlie, and that Charlie "has all the answers. Do not ask me any questions, I don't care, ask Charlie. He is full of answers. Do not break him. He is not happy."

There had been a psychology class in here before this, and he erased all of the words on the board but the word "id."

He picked up a random newspaper lying around on the floor and said, "Anyone read this? No?" He looked at the headline, something about entry level jobs, and said, "Well, THOSE don't exist any more!"

He asked us if we like chalk, then handed everyone pieces of chalk.

Then he was all, "I'm going to talk about this club I'm in, it's the model United Nations. It has the goal of world peace, only everyone defines this differently." At this point he looked at his watch, announced that it was 7:11 p.m., and that someone isn't here yet. At which point, the actual instructor, Jon, walked in, and said that the box has answers, not Charlie.

Jon then made us get up and "do something random." Mostly this amounted to silly dance moves. (On the last night of class, we had to do a "power move," which amounted to...the same thing.)

Then we played "Vroom." I'm not sure how to describe this, other than everyone stands in a circle and says "Vroom" and points one way or the other at who goes next, but someone can make the "screech" noise and stop and start going the other way, and when you screw up which noise you make or the direction, you're out. I placed fourth, which was pretty good out of 20something people.

Remember that chalk? We then had to draw something on the board. Then we had to explain someone else's drawing, and the best explanation got Charlie.

Let me just point out that some of the attendees tonight were just as weird as the class itself. There was this group of five girls or so, most of whom lived together, but two of them couldn't make the first class. So their roommates brought in stick figure drawings of them to put in the seats. The girls missing were Anna and Caitlin. Caitlin's picture had sunglasses on said "I da bomb" under it, Anna's was holding a flower. The next week, those girls showed up, wearing the sunglasses and carrying the (out of paper) flower so we could recognize them.

Another girl in that group was the eventual winner of Charlie, and her happy exclaimation upon winning was, "And I didn't even have to steal him!" Then she regaled us with tales of the extraordinary number of signs on campus that they have stolen, including having Caitlin steal a traffic cone while the car was moving.

(The next week, this group of girls brought Charlie back, stuffed with items like pencils, leftover political campaign stuff, lube, and condoms. We broke Charlie and made off with the booty, as well as making paper-mache masks.)

At the end of the class, we were instructed to do the one red paperclip thing with our chalk. (I ended up uh, donating it the next night to the CC when an instructor complained that we had no chalk whatsoever in the building.)

At 7:50, two people walked into the room, having FINALLY found where the class was being held.

The rest of the classes were not quite as surreal- the second night had Charlie-bashing, paper-mache, and capoeira singing, but I missed a few in the middle and I gather things kind of petered out into game-playing, wandering around campus, watching a random sword fight, and eating pie.

That said, I might volunteer to be the instructor for a night one time. Hey, it's not like you have to be good at what you're teaching for this one...

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