And That Reminds Me Of Another Story

Yesterday one of the big news stories around here was about a bomb threat in which some numbnuts called the state cops and said that a bomb was going to go off in a local high school. In a stunning display of originality, the little scamp wouldn't say what school, only the county. This led to the delay or closing of numerous schools, and will probably lead to an arrest in the near future when the moron brags to the wrong person about calling in the funny bomb threat and that person turns his ass in, with said ass then being turned into hamburger meat in the local jail. All that because they didn't study for the history final. Next time, junior, here's a tip from your Uncle Limpy: We won the American Revolution.

But that story took me back, like so many other things around here have an unfortunate tendency to do, to college. Where, as a young man, I enrolled for some reason in Economics 101. I'm pretty sure it had something to do with fulfilling a credit requirement for my degree. Because god knows to this day my knowledge of economics consists almost entirely of knowing that there are two lines marked "supply" and "demand" that control all the prices in the world. As opposed to the Jews.

At any rate, I stumbled through the semester learning about all sorts of fascinating things that happen when the hamburger market collapses and is replaced by peas, or when the widget factory goes out of business, or whatever other unrealistic example our professor could come up with. The time came for the final exam. The final for Econ 101 was scheduled for the early afternoon of the second to last day before the college closed for the winter break. If you've spent any time at all here, you know that I was planning on getting righteously blitzed after taking this exam. I had a chance to make Dean's list and I studied very hard to make sure Econ 101 and those goddamn peas wouldn't ruin it.

Incidentally, I made Dean's list every single Fall semester and not one single Spring semester. I'm sure there's a facinating thesis in there somewhere, but I'm not going to write it.

The time for the exam arrived and, dutifully scrubbed and carrying two No. 2 pencils, I arrived at the hall where the test was to be held. Only to find a squadron of cops, and the state version, not the yokels who usually wandered around campus, and several fire trucks. And a horde of people leaving the building. As luck would have it, I stumbled on my friend, (and unrequited crush), KJ, who told me that there was a bomb threat, and no tests were going forward until 6 pm.

6 pm! What the hell? I've got two cases of beer back in my room! Corona no less! (Splurging on a college budget = Coronas. Don't judge me). That's not going to work. I'd have to wait, like 5 hours!

Now, a rational person would have taken this as an opportunity to cram another four hours of study and maybe a nap in before taking the test. But by now, faithful reader, you've undoubtedly realized that "rational" and "Limpy" are two concepts not often in synch with each other, and this afternoon would be no exception. I went back to the dorm, looked at my notes, tossed them in the corner, went down to lunch, and then started cracking beers. I did modify my intake and kept it to 3-4 before wandering off, and I do mean "wandering", to the exam room. There, pleasantly buzzed, I set about filling in the little blank ovals. Then, finishing before most of the class, I returned to my room and joined in the year end revelry.

A few weeks later I got my report card. Econ 101. B+.

That's when I learned the last thing I still remember from that class. There is one HELL of a curve in that class.

Also drinking too much Corona requires a lot of reading material the next morning.