Lastly, driving to the airport I was filled with visions of the kid who came up to the desk I was sitting on, and just plopped down right next to me without saying a single word. After I finished my answer to another student, I looked at him and said, "well, hello, what's up?"

"I just like you," he said.

I’m sweating bullets.

Intimidated? Oh hell yea. Sitting on top of a desk in a classroom of 30, tough-looking, tattooed inmates, all looking at me, has a way of breeding intimidation. I could only imagine what they might be thinking, “who is this dude?” or “what kind of sunshine crap are they going to feed us this time…?”