Fandom High School

Josh was sitting in a chair in the Danger Shop, which was mocked up to look like Caritas a karaoke bar.

"One of the most common places to run into stupid people--especially stupid ones who won't take hints--is in a social situation."

He waved his hands around. "Stupid people who don't know lyrics, stupid people who order drinks with plastic monkeys in them, stupid people who won't take no for an answer, it's all wrapped into a typical Friday night." He grinned. "And that's your challenge today. You get to be those annoying people. All of you. See how long mutual stupidity will last before one of you has to break character and attempt to beat each other with sticks."

He took a sip from his mug of coffee. "It's been a thing, kids. See you all in government class."

"Today, in a shocking change of pace, we'll deal with even more stupid people," Josh said, waving his hand around the Danger Shop at the simulated Yellow Line Metro stop.

"The combination of just waking up, not wanting to be going to work, not paying attention and being an idiot tourist combine to give Washington, DC some of the most ridiculous morning commutes in the country. You have two choices: You can get on the Metro," he waved his hand over his shoulder towards the station, "where you will have to get yourself a Metro pass, go in the correct direction, transfer through Metro Center, one of the scariest places at 8:15 in the morning known to man, and make your way from there to the Red Line and Farragut North. Which is by the White House and therefore awesome. If you screw up and end up at Farragut West, I will mock you. On this commute, you will encounter tour gaggles of idiot middle schoolers, women with baby carriages who won't move towards the center of the car, and people without enough coffee to be paying attention. You are not allowed to scream or throw things unless they really, really deserve it."

"Or! You can get in one of these handy cars--" he pointed to the provided cars, "get onto I-395, go across the 14th Street Bridge and try to find parking near the White House without getting run over by an illegal cab driver, cut off by someone who thinks merging is a sign of weakness, or exiting at the wrong spot and end up in a giant Pentagon parking lot. At which point I will also mock you."

He clapped his hands together. "Work in teams of two--that gets you into the High Occupancy Vehicle lane on the highway and makes for more entertainment on the Metro. First team to the fake White House gets a real White House tour from me this weekend."

He clapped his hands together. "Don't just stand there like you've wandered off the Greyhound from South Dakota! Move!"

Instead of telephones, the students in Josh's workshop would find laptops set up.

And coffee, naturally.

"For some reason, people think that because they're hiding behind a keyboard, they're not accountable for what they say," Josh began, taking a sip from his mug. "That's clearly stupid. There are entire websites devoted to mocking such stupidity--not that I've ever gone to them, of course--and I'm sure those of you more technically minded will help out your fellow students from less advanced civilizations."

Josh clapped his hands together. "Because today, you are starting flamewars. If you're looking for suggestions, the Barry Plodder people have been chock full of crazyflakes."

He then gave a brief--well, for him--explanation of flamewars, with tangents about Fox News, the Republican party and the general evil of people who put up websites about Bartlet and can't be bothered to learn how to spell his last name correctly, then let them loose on the internet.

Heaven help 'em.

Josh was still not exactly comfortable with the whole "being outside" thing as he perched on a picnic bench and smiled at the students as they assembled. In deference to the ridiculously hot weather, he was wearing short sleeves and khakis. No tie. Scary, no?

"Okay, one of the most annoying things you will encounter in your life will be other people," he began, rolling his eyes. "Most of us -- in my universe, anyway, some of you might have other experiences -- can't kill them by using our brains, so we have to come up with different coping methods. We'll get to the more advanced techniques -- sarcasm, the strategic use of an eye roll -- later, but today we'll start out with something that gives you a lot of chance to practice before you send out the final product."

He pulled out a sheaf of papers and dropped it onto the table. "Writing back to stupid people!" he said triumphantly. "In this exercise you need to reply to these obviously deranged letters in a polite way without asking if they've thought to seek professional help for their delusions. There are five different letters so pair up with a partner -- it's better to double check your language against someone else, at least at the beginning -- and write back to these completely insane people."

Josh grinned. "Questions? Problems? I don't really care, but ask anyway."

"Did anyone else got a lot of incredibly stupid messages on Friday?" Josh asked as he stood outside a fake Metro station in the Danger Shop. "If so, I certainly hope you remembered all of your training from this class and left an incredibly random message in return. It certainly made me feel better."

( Stupid People Who Commute! )

"Today, you will deal with real people, so keep your eye rolling to a minimum, please," Josh said as the students assembled in the Danger Room Shop that he totally told them about, rly. "We will be working...retail!" he said, clapping his hands together.

The Danger Shop turned into a sandwich store of a chain that might be familiar to some of you, oh yes. "Half of you will be working behind the counter. The other half of you will be the incredibly irritating customers. Ask how long a foot-long sandwich is! Demand a sandwich with everything except most of the ingredients! Wonder why a sandwich shop doesn't serve Mexican!" Josh's grin turned positively evil. "And you customer service types--remember to smile. And, um, not to punch anyone."

When the students in the workshop arrived at the tables by the main campfire, they found them covered with phones.

"Welcome to the help desk!" Josh said, grinning proudly. "People are very stupid over the phone, especially when they know you can't see the expression on their faces. This is also why video conferences aren't as popular as regular conference calls--hiding your eyerolling is easier when, well, they can't see your eyes."

He waved his hands out. "Today you will be manning a help desk. I have handwavily put out posters to let people know that it's open during this class time, so the phones should start ringing any minute now. Your job is to answer the person's question in the most polite way possible without letting them know you think they are completely out of their minds."

"Coffee, muffins and bagels are available, answering their questions correctly is completely optional." Josh smirked. "Have fun."

[OOC: Phone lines are open for townies, students, and faculty members to call in. Josh has conveniently forgotten to specify what kind of help the students would offer. Ask for relationship advice, song requests, technical support, people to vote for or against bills in Congress, just to say hi...go nuts.