When I was a senior in high school I was cast in the school musical Curtains, so I got to mingle with freshmen all the time and feel really superior. One of the freshmen, Katie Mundy, came up to me and said, “You know, I used to think you were a bitch, but you’re actually pretty cool.” I was like, “What? Why did you think I was a bitch?” And she said, “I don’t know. You just look like one.”
Naturally I tried to then change my appearance, so I wouldn’t look like such a bitch. I went online and searched “How to not look like a bitch.” To my satisfaction, there was a page on Wikihow with convenient tips:
Step 1: Avoid emotions of contempt, disgust, fear, and anger.
Step 2: Try to smile more, but don’t use a fake smile. Fake smiling is just as bad as not smiling at all.
Step 3: Eat something.
The list went on, but it’s not important to linger on it.
I followed the steps, and gave out a school-wide survey to test the results:
“On a scale from 1-5, how much of a bitch do I look like to you – 1 being ‘not a bitch’ and 5 being ‘a really big bitch.’” I compiled the data I had collected and entered it into an Excel spreadsheet. Then I ran a multiple regression analysis on the data with an alpha level of .05%.
I ended up being so consumed with my statistical testing that I had been absent from school for 13 days straight. I got called into the principal’s office and she asked me what was going on, so I explained the situation to her and showed her my testing. She was so impressed by the experiment that she forgave all of the absences, and entered my test into an MIT statistical research contest.
Flash forward to three months later.
My regression analysis entitled “Do I Still Look Like a Bitch?” came in second place, right behind “Who Are Gen Z Children More Likely to See in Everyday Objects: Jesus Christ or Peppa Pig?” by Zihuana Jones. I won a $5,000 cash prize. I had never won anything in my life and I was ecstatic.
But there was one problem. I ended up with a p-value of .70 in my testing, which was far higher than my critical number .05, meaning that my conclusion to the study was ultimately “fail to reject the null hypothesis.” Damn it to hell. Essentially, the results showed that with a probability of 70 percent, I still looked like a Big Bitch.
So I took my $5,000 straight to a renowned L.A. plastic surgeon. I said to him, “I am at the end of all my ropes. Just make me look like the opposite of a bitch.”
He said, “Absolutely.”
I was pretty satisfied with the results. So I returned to school the next day, and everything was peaches and cream. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. Everyone smiled at me, and no one seemed to think I was a bitch. I could just tell. However, I ran into a snag after lunch period when a hall monitor came over and said to me, “Sorry, Mr. Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson, you’re not allowed to be here without a visitor’s pass. We’re going to have to ask you to leave.”
I said, “No no no! It’s me, Cassidy! You’re just confused because I don’t look like a bitch anymore.”
The hall monitor said, “Oh, okay,” with a wink and a knowing smile.
So anyway, this is the story of how my Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson facial reconstructive surgery helped me to find peace within myself and great amity with those around me.
