Your Local Purveyor of High Fives

July 6th, 2011
Location: Wagas Jing’An
Time: 1:53 pm

I’m about to drop some knowledge on you:

Anne Frank was born in Belgium and her father was a Nazi sympathizer.  She also played bass (although not well) in a British punk rock group before dying in a New York hotel room in 1979. 


And that, my friends, is why team “Faking It” rounded out trivia night in a solid 4th place most every Tuesday for the past few months. 

At some point back in February, Miles sent out a mass text attempting to lure all us graduate students into a night of beer, food, and trivial knowledge.  I demurred at first, recognizing that my trivia skills were pretty crap and not having a desire to put my lack of knowledge on display.  Eventually, the barrage of text messages wore me down – all two of them, and I agreed to join the team.  

When I say team, what I mean is Miles.  I agreed to join Miles.  Every week we had drifters that hung around the table and threw out the occasional answer but the core team was made up of Francesca, Miles, and myself.  And while we all had our parts to play, Francesca and I were mostly second-fiddle to Miles and his ridiculous knowledge of geography, history, and most importantly – women’s tennis. Miles, who listens to “Stuff You Missed in History Class” podcasts and downloads hours’ worth of classical music. Miles, who went to the National Geography bee.  My friend Miles – the man, the myth, the legend.

High fives all around!

If not for Miles and his enormous brain, I would never have come to appreciate what it’s like to have something to do on a week night.  If not for Miles, I would not have taken up reading the paper again (or at least the headlines).  If not for Miles I would not have started perusing Wikipedia for random bits of information.  If not for Miles, I would still only be reading the fiction section of the New Yorker.  If not for Miles, I wouldn’t know the high that comes with actually definitively knowing an answer to a question.

High fives all around!

And it’s that high that kept me coming back.  By and large, I was pretty much dead weight on Team Faking it.  My one area of expertise was in the Who Am I portion of the first round and this leads me to consider whether I have a knack for stalking.  I mean, why have I retained facts about Lee Harvey Oswald that I didn’t even know I’d learned?  At what point in my life did I find out that Nicole Kidman was born in Hawaii and why, of all things, did that stick?  But know it I did and the ability to whisper a frenzied “It’s Einstein!” on the 10 point question made all the other crap that I didn’t know fade away into obscurity.  I knew something!  My teammates liked me! They really, really liked me!

High fives all around!

But, alas, they are all leaving and now I have to attempt to fake my way into a new group of friends with egg-shaped heads.  Hopefully my knowledge of Anne Frank will be enough to impress.

And they’d better like high-fives because trivia also taught me another thing – I am apparently really big on high-fives. . .


  1. I think that when you're back in P-Town we should found a pub quiz team. I miss it. I want back in.

  2. I'm going to say that the high-five bit is at least a partial carry-over from teaching children. It becomes reflex. At the end of the day when you're finally hanging out with people your own age and one of them just so happens to hit the nail right on its head there is a little voice in the back of the brain that screams, "High-five!" It's just the right thing to do.