Behold! The Human Metronome!

I had to take CPR for the millionth time today. I don't know why employers routinely require that I take this. I have told every boss that I've ever had: if someone get's out of control, I'm your girl. if they pass out/have a heart attack/choke/etc......I am not the one! You really don't want my life to be in your hands. I will certainly pass out myself and then someone will have to help the both of us.

Despite this, I had to go. In my class was one of the nurses from my floor: a white guy. I like him. We disagree on religion and politics and simply agree not to speak of it. He has a sick sense of humor, which I appreciate. He also apparently has some rhythm, which I find endearing and hilarious given the fact that he looks a little like the kid from Napoleon Dynamite. I discovered this because the instructors of the course decided to use music to demonstrate how to give chest compressions. Now, I say "some rhythm" because they used the song "Stayin' Alive", which is not the most rhythmic theme I've ever heard, but whatever.

So anyway, Joel was in the row in front of me and I did notice that he was on beat to the music (I use both those terms loosely). I fully intended to tease him about it later, not just because he's a goofy white guy, but also because I'm mean. Well, the instructor's beat me to it and began calling him the "human metronome". Now the kicker was that Joel called them out! "You're just saying that because I'm white!", he shot at the leader of the exercise, who was as wide as she was tall short. She mumbled and stuttered for a moment and then vehemently denied that that was the case. Now this was obviously a lie since the class was about 25% black and of the folks who were sitting ahead of me (I can't vouch for those who were in the back row. I wasn't paying attention because I wasn't intending to write a blog about it at the time.) all but one was on beat.