Idiocy for fun and profit

Normally, being an idiot is a definite drawback. Not being able to find what's right in front of my face, spending hours on a task it takes a person of average intelligence only minutes, confidently saying something that turns out to be very, very wrong...these are the hallmarks of the idiot, and they're things that I do so often that I'm thinking of trying to pass them off as hobbies. Which is a pretty stupid thing to do.

But tonight, some greater force took pity on me and decided that the usual punishment for idiocy would, just this once, be replaced with reward.

The story goes like this: I was signed up for some focus group of non-profit web folks. Or something. I wasn't really sure, since the invitation was passed along to me by someone who wasn't really sure. But I figured I could learn a few things, and, as an idiot, I have to take all the chances I can get for learnin' and such. Also, they were incomprehensibly giving everyone $150 to participate. Well. Okay!

I got off the Metro and looked around for the address, and couldn't find it where my feeble brain kept insisting it should be. I walked up and down a three block area, searching for the spot, only to be told by my useless brain that it just wan't there, that any spot it could have been in was under construction. I called Ivan to get him to look up the place, checked the spot where he told me it was, still couldn't find it, and was just about to give up when I saw the right address: right where it should be, and even more embarrassingly, right at the spot where I had called Ivan.

At this point, I was 15 minutes late, and considered just turning around, but reconsidered (it takes my brain even longer to reconsider than it does to consider in the first place), and figured that I could just rudely-but-quietly bust in late to the room and still get my learn on.

I made it to the office, signed in, and was greeted by a guy with a pained expression on his face. He asked if I was there for the focus group, I said I was, and he said that it had already started, in a way that made it clear that latecomers weren't going to be joining. "But," he said, "I'll still get you your compensation."

Suddenly, it became clear to me why he had a pained expression on his face: he was going to have to give me the money anyway, and he was hoping that I would turn it down. I was torn. The decent part of me was arguing, "You haven't done anything. It would be wrong to take their money." Luckily, I've lately been successful in beating down the decent part of me, and so I took the money. And walked out the door.

Sometimes, things work out okay. Hey, brain? You worthless, rotten brain? Thanks, man.