For most of my life I’ve heard about this thing called an SAT test. And it seems logical, given the timeline, to assume that at some point in my laughable or lamentable high school ‘career’ I sat down in a room full of other kids my age and took such a test. But I have no memory of it.
Oh, I took lots of multiple-choice tests, often involving official-looking booklets with seals you slit open with your #2 pencil. Undoubtedly one of those was an SAT. But by then I had grown used to paying no attention to whatever went on in classrooms. I graduated from the twelfth public school I ever attended – and even then it was only a nominal graduation, since at the time that class actually graduated I was nowhere near the school. Somebody mailed me a diploma and – this may have been meant kindly or ironically, I truly don’t know – a tassel.
No one has ever asked me what my SAT score was, and this is good because I can’t prove I even took the test. Needless to say I have no idea or interest as to the score.
This topic isn’t relevant to anything that’s going on around me, I just thought the picture was funny because the paragraph actually does describe a major portion of my adult life without the bowling or the multiple marriages. I wonder now: Had I read the book, would it have made any difference?