Say, It's Slick

My mom couldn't understand why her 14-year-old son, a high achiever on standardized tests, didn't have an A in math. That's why I spent my Saturday afternoons at a math tutor's dining room table one bitter winter. To this day, the socially inept man is the biggest nerd I've encountered. He sported full dweeb attire, including a pocket protector, taped glasses and greasy hair. After a tedious session of algebraic equations, he walked me out to my mom's station wagon in the driveway. He slipped on ice and fell. For several years afterward, his exclamation was the only thing both my mom and I agreed was funny. "Say, it's slick!"