Sandwich of Ruin!

Numb

Like most people, if I sit with my legs crossed for any extended amount of time, my leg, from the knee down, will inevitably fall asleep. Unlike most people, I think getting my leg to fall asleep is strangely entertaining.

I don't know why I enjoy getting my leg to fall asleep. Maybe it's because it provides me with a brief escape from the work day, or maybe I just have some morbid fascination with the act of getting my leg to fall asleep, wondering if, this time, I've gone too far and I have forever lost all feeling in my leg.

Whatever the reason, I usually end up putting my leg to sleep two or three times a day. This will backfire one day, I'm sure. I'll be sitting here, legs crossed, my right leg numb from the knee down, and suddenly the fire alarm will go off or something, and there I'll sit with a numb leg and get burned alive because I can't stand up.

Which brings me to today's little story.

When I lived in Tokyo, the school I attended occastionally hosted TOEFL exams, which stands for "Test Of English as a Foreign Language." Basically, the classrooms would fill up with Japanese residents eager to pass the exam so they could qualify for lucrative bi-lingual jobs.

The great thing, for me, as a native English speaker, was that I was qualified to oversee the exams. I wasn't the main person overseeing the tests, mind you (no person in their right mind would give me that much authority). Rather, I was an underling for one of the school's more qualified teachers. I was tasked with handing out the exams and providing test-takers with sharpened pencils and, if necessary, I would explain a question or two to a stymied test-taker.

The nicest thing about being a TOEFL underling was that I was paid over $80 for about three hours worth of work.

Well, during one TOEFL exam, I was sitting there, legs crossed, catching up on my homework, when I started to feel a tingling sensation in my left toes. I knew my leg was starting to fall asleep but, seeing as how I thought it was cool, I just sat there and let my leg fall further and further asleep. I made a little goal for myself to keep my legs crossed for the entirely of the half-hour exam being conducted at that time.

And, boy, did my leg fall deeply asleep during that half hour. I couldn't feel a thing from my knee down. It was totally and completely numb. I could have conducted surgery on my ankle with no twinge of pain.

Just then, Mrs. Sato, the test overseer, announced "Time's up!" She then instructed me to retrieve the students' test booklets. So, I stood up.

And I fell down.

I mean, I just toppled right over onto the floor, knocking my head on a ship made of popcicle sticks on my way down. It was as if my left leg had been lopped off. It was there but, because I couldn't feel it at all, it offered up no support whatsoever. I tried to pick myself up, but the attempt basically was a half lunge, followed by another teetering tumble to the floor.

By that time, Mrs. Sato's face was etched with deep concern, the type of concern you keep in reserve for those moments you think somebody may be having an epileptic seizure, and that concern was also etched on the faces of the 20+ test-takers in the room.

"Are you all right?" asked Mrs. Sato, looking poised to grab one of the popcicle sticks of the ship with which to hold my tongue down, just in case.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine," I tried to assure her. "My leg. It's asleep. My leg's really, really asleep."

Well, now remember, this was a classroom full of non-native English speaking test-takers, so they weren't up to speed on slang terms and such odd niche English statements as "my leg's really, really asleep."

"How could a leg fall asleep?" was the question I was reading on the faces of every single test taker in the room. "What kind of weird person is this who has no control over his body and puts body parts to sleep? Is this some strange sort of English test?"

Finally, enough feeling seeped back into my leg so that I could bring myself to a standing position and perform a sort of Igor step-drag walk-through of the classroom, collecting the exams. Each test-taker handed me their test in a "take this and get away from me" kind of way.

Mrs. Sato was snickering somewhat when I handed her the exams, and she later explained that, roughly translated "my foot's really, really asleep" becomes "Really my foot, you slept," which makes entirely no sense and kind of explains why the test-takers were sort of creeped out by me.

But none of them dared to try and cheat, as far as I know.

Posted by Ryan at July 6, 2004 01:27 PM