His eyes search the room, his head turning slowly, careful not to miss someone. He scratches his head and ruffles his greying hair. His hands rest on his head, fingers intertwined; something he does when he is concentrating.
(We affectionately refer to him as Dr. House, as he has a PhD, his surname is unpronounceable; he has a strange American/English accent and has the same dishevelled appearance. The only thing missing is the cane and grumpy disposition. He is possibly smaller, and wears patterned woollen jumpers.)
My friend and I put up our hands. Only two of us, and one older man, from a room of around fifty. Suddenly he gets very excited. Eyes lit up, hand outstretched, he points directly at us:
'YES! Two people who aren't old fuzzies who know what 'The Prisoner' is!'
I immediately pull down my hand as the whole room turns to see who is so impressive/geeky, and my face turns red. He walks around in disbelief before explaining to the rest of the class why 'The Prisoner' is so good.
Later, I will try and figure out how to incorporate this into an essay on the Anthropology of Hinduism. After many valiant attempts, just like Number Six, I can't quite figure it out.
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