KNOW-IT-ALL
Prompt - Know-it-All : Write about something you are very knowledgeable about, for example a favourite hobby or passion of yours.
"Are you OK sir? Can I help at all?" For once David was less in awe of the elderly man who'd just fallen to the floor, and more genuinely concerned for his welfare. Professor Askwith was his tutor, mentor, longstanding head of the history faculty, and a man with an international reputation for his knowledge and writings on the Byzantine Empire. And here he was, lying flat out, face down, on the grey tiled corridor, having gone from vertical to horizontal so quickly that David had missed it all. He bent down to help the man get turned over and sat up, helped him check for bodily damage. Shaken clearly, but there were no cuts, no sign of any breaks or sprains, although that would become clearer when he tried getting to his feet.
David looked at said appendages, noticed that both sets of shoelaces were undone. He'd always seen the professor in slip ons before.
"That looks like the culprits sir, must have tripped over them. Easy done when they come undone like that."
"Um, yes, they will have, won't they. Will be. They are." The professor was still flustered by his embarrassing experience.
"Best get them done up and I can give you a hand up if you want me to?"
"Um, yes, do they up. Do you think you could do them for me, bit of a stretch, feel a bit stiff after all this?"
"Certainly sir" I hunkered down and pulled the laces together, tired a double knot in each. It was strange, the laces themselves didn't have that crimped twisted feeling they usually do when they've been tied tight. In fact they looked pristine, yet faded. When I looked up he seemed to have been carefully observing my hands.
I got the prof back up, asked how he felt, handed him the bag briefcase that had slid across the floor. He insisted he was fine, just a bit shocked, and he'd be taking more care in future. Thanked me for my assistance, as polite and formal as ever. And off he went.
As did I. It was only later, when I was recounting the incident to a friend, that I had a realisation. Those laces had never been tied. Ever. Professor Askwith was one of the top ten experts in the world on a major historical civilisation, a vast and complex subject that had loaned it's name to the devious intricacies of bureaucracy. And he didn't know how to tie his shoes.
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A decade ago I used to say that everyone had a list in them, some information they had retained through their life that they could reel off. It might be, often was, useless information, it might even be something that the person concerned realised they could do. Mine was being able to take any year, since 1950 when the title was inaugurated, and name who the Formula One World champion was, and what car he was driving when he won it. Pointless information, but it was mine.
Until I found myself realising that I was totally bred with the world of motorsport, and gave up following it. I can't name any champion since 2010, and that wider lack of interest has damaged my ability to exhibit my claimed list expertise. I simply don't care any more.
There has been no replacement. I can claim no detailed knowledge or long term passion for any hobby or interest. There are sports I follow, but not in the encyclopedic manner I once did with almost anything on four wheels.
And that's why I chose to adopt a fictional approach to today's prompt, even if it meant not really meeting the brief...
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