the Story:
Once upon a time (when I was in the sixth grade), I was in my school's gym shooting hoops after lunch. (This was an excellent way to keep from thinking about my following dreaded boring class.) I watched a basketball fall from nowhere and struck this kid's head. The kid instantaneously fell to the ground as if unconscious and I watched his front tooth shoot out about ten feet away. Being a nice kinda guy, I rushed to assist this unfortunate individual. I found the tooth and it was placed in a glass of milk (to preserve it in case it could be re-attached). My teacher came to assume that because I was assisting this basketball victim, that I was his friend and asked me if I would like to sit with him till his parents came to pick him up. In actuality I had never previously communicated with him in my life (well, minimally). (Are you asking if I would like to skip my most dreaded class?) -- "For sure!" :O)
Today, if you asked me one single thing about that class..... I don't think I could tell ya anything other than I remember that I didn't like it. But, as for the basketball victim.........he'd probably be better off not surviving that little incident cuz it really affected the way he is today. :O)