It wasn’t too long ago that I was missing from work on Sunday, on a date to exist once every 4 years. I was at the National Science Center for a MENSA IQ test. (Thanks to Hannna for the information.)
I sat for the Advanced Progressive Matrices test. I forgot most of the details, but there were no words, just 3×3 patterns, where you’d have to pick the missing one from 8 answers. There were no “if A is B and B is C therefore…” questions; all the questions were abstract patterns free from the constraints of language. I think there were 36 questions, for a maximum of 180 marks. The passing rate was 148 for entry to MENSA; whether that implied that you’d have only 6 chances to answer wrongly at 5 marks per question, or that the answers were weighted differently, I did not know. I did not even know if your score translated directly into the classic benchmark of your Intelligence Quotient or IQ. The guy said he’d send the results by courier in 2 weeks.
Anyway, enough of sounding smart.
Yesterday my momma, she tella me-a to go eat dinnah and go home mahself. And so I called Shaz and he was in KLCC dependably as a lepak buddy. He brought Penang dudes from the Incubus concert! (P.S. My review is here.) The Penang dudes, they uh say hey let’s be at the Kinokuniya, the bookstore upstairs, and we go up the escalators. Hmm if a place has no stairs, like getting to Fitness First on the 2nd floor of Maxis Tower (which is dumb for a fitness center), can we still say upstairs? (Whoa Hannna-ism there.)
Speak of the devil or at least the gollum-lookalike, she was there at Kinokuniya, standing at the counter, so coincidentally near more 4D puzzles. We walked, we talked, we bade farewell to the Shaz-in-a-rush and the Penang dudes about to watch a movie. We convinced Nora, Hannna’s friend, (come to think of it I don’t remember if her real name has one N or two Ns but heck) to get a squirrel 4D puzzle for her friend’s birthday. We chose Starbucks over DOME and watched the Hannna-the-MENSA-member struggle with her oh-so-cute-and-yet-elaborate hedgehog puzzle. (Yes the same one Aznin made me get her.)
When I reached home, a letter was waiting. It was from the Malaysian MENSA society, and had a 30 sen stamp on it. Nope, none of the grandeur of a courier mail. What, were they considerate enough to tell me I didn’t get in anyway? *does a Dick Solomon egoistic pose* (Of course, if I got 180, they’d be camping outside my house ready to shake my hand and toss me in a duffel bag for shipping to an underground lair where they would extract my brain and conduct experiments without my consent yes?)
Anyway, back to sounding smart.
It said I got 156 out of 180. Yes I barely passed. That means if you’re thinking I’m bombastic, then you must feel stupid, and if you’re not as smart as I am, you probably wouldn’t pass. (And yes, I was braggartly deliberately complicating my sentences.) Of course, if you’re already in MENSA, then you must be equal or greater in intelligence to me. I bow to you.
The membership application form was attached. You could be a genius and be a lazy procrastinator at the same time, and so I did not rush out in the dark night to a Pos Laju (speedy courier mail) office and send my application. Plus I had no experience with money orders or cheques (despite my father’s attempts at forcing lessons down our throats.)
What would I want with MENSA anyway? To meet brainy chicks? Well, that, and to find some Rubik Cube enthusiasts, perhaps.