So, this professor was writing.
On this board.
With a marker.
I think it was a black marker, but I can’t remember for sure.
That’s what happens when you get old and dull.
Anyway, while I was writing this young girl came in. She was wearing something, and she had hair. I could only give her one glance, see, since I was writing.
“What are you writing?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” I replied. The marker made a funny noise there.
She laughed slightly. “How can’t you know?”
“Well,” I answered, “while one is writing one can’t read. Have you ever thought about that? I think it’s ground-breaking.”
That stalled her for a moment.
“Yeah… Umm…but I always know what I’m writing.”
“Well,” this professor said, “you’re either special, or…have you ever written on a board?”
“No,” she admitted freely, “I haven’t.”
“You should try it sometime. But two things: Not my board, and be ready not to read while you write.”