- Learn when your paper is due. Think about how you’ll probably never think about it again (even though you know you’ll have to).
- Learn that you’re about to write a non-conventional essay. How original.
- Take a deep breath. You know you’ll need it.
- Start researching for said non-conventional paper about that Thing approximately 3 weeks after it was assigned (and 2 weeks before it’s due)
- Realize the one thing you needed you research is wrong (thanks to one minute detail) and you need to start almost from Square One.
- Sigh loudly. Ignore the fact that you just wasted three hours researching the wrong thing.
- Start outlining the proper research topic and prepare to dig into archives. (Or, in other words, prepare to scroll. Endlessly.)
- Scroll for a few hours on the respective internet tabs.
- Accidentally go back a page. (This is where you restart all that scrolling you just did.)
- Proceed to make the same mistake—three more times.
- Take a moment to think about the number of hours wasted, staring at an ever-scrolling web page, and cue the NBM (Night-Before Meltdown).
- Screaming into a pillow is optional.
Although this is about something that didn’t happen today, I thought this fitting for a first blog post. I mean, who doesn’t like horrible jokes? I know I do.
On February 10th, I was the Mod Club attending a Banners concert. My friend and I just put our coats and bags into coatcheck, our hands were X’d, and we walked into the venue, knowing that once our stuff is in coatcheck it doesn’t come out until the end of the night or when we’re ready to leave. I would have been okay with this, but it was only after I bought my friend and I beers that I realized I would need my glasses to see the stage properly. After enough overthinking to last at least a week, I walked back out to coatcheck with my hanger ticket and asked if I could grab my glasses.
The guy at coatcheck ended up helping me out — he held onto my bag as I fumbled around, searching for my glasses case. Just as I found it (but before I pulled it out) a man walked into the venue and, in an unnecessarily loud voice, said, “Don’t use His name in vain!”
Now—I know—there is nothing remotely interesting about that statement. But through the whole process of finally finding my glasses and cleaning them a little and putting them on, the guy holding my bag scoffed and said under his breath, “He’s right. Don’t use His name in vain. Use his name in artery instead.”
Unfortunately, the guy’s joke was drowned out by the sounds of interlude pop music from inside the concert hall and the loud voices of other concertgoers dropping their stuff off at coatcheck. Me? I laughed a little too hard. When he saw me laughing, his blank expression disappeared and he said, “Man, that wasn’t even good. That was a horrible joke.”
“No,” I said, putting my glasses on, “but that’s what makes it so good.”
After this exchange he told me to enjoy the show, I said “you too” even though he would be at coatcheck (well done, Nat), and that was that.
I don’t know this guy and I wish I could give him proper credit for his joke, completely underappreciated because I was the only one that heard it. But, hands down, that joke is one of my February 2017 highlights. Thank you, Coatcheck Guy.