I did not graduate from college in 4 years.

Organic Chemistry got in the way. Even now the words strike fear in my heart. I first took Organic Chemistry and its associated Lab in my sophomore year. After the first test I had no grade (kind of like when Dean Wormer tells Blutarsky “You have no GPA”.) I walked directly from the Lecture Hall, where the test was given, to the Administration building where I dropped the courses just before the deadline. I had too busy a schedule, I figured. I couldn’t give it the attention it needed, I figured. I’ll just take it next semester, I figured . All lies of course, And I procrastinated a full two years before confronting the beast again, during my second semester Senior year. An oddly similar fate awaited me. This time I managed to register a score in the teens on that first test (progress!) and tried to tough it out for the entire semester. To no avail. I failed both the course and the lab. The only courses I ever failed.

So I needed to go back upstate to school for another semester just to take those 6 credits. I had always lived on campus, the last two years as an RA with my own room, and now it was time to find an off-campus apartment. I moved with my buddy into an “apartment” above an old-man neighborhood bar. The benefits are obvious, but the apartment should have been condemned. I won’t describe it except to say that the main living space was floored with a sheet of linoleum and could best be described as “rolling”. Anyway, since I only carried 6 credits, I had time for a job. I found one as a midnight watchman at Amphenol Corporation, a maker of electronic wires and cables. I worked from 11pm to 7am four nights a week, which fit my schedule perfectly.

Each shift I would walk around with a time clock hanging from my neck, punching it with keys strategically located around the 3-building facility. The watchclock was steam punk all the way, a heavy round thing with a circular paper disc inside which recorded the punches made with the keys. I was told that the insurance company offers significant discounts if there is a patrol 24-7 and the strips of paper prove that someone is on the job. That was it. No other duties. Just walk around the 3 buildings once an hour, punching the 9 keys. Took about 20 minutes so I could find an office and study Organic Chemistry to my heart’s content during the other 40 minutes.

Although the job was mind-numbingly boring, I did often commandeer the lift trucks in certain sections of the factory, occasionally crashing into and ripping open bags of plastic pellets used to form the insulation on wire products. Other than that, the job was kind of creepy. The lights were low, the buildings quiet, cold and cavernous, and I had to move from building to building in the elements. Like I said, creepy. Until the night I hit upon a shortcut.

I realized that the keys were attached to a chain secured to a holder with only a machine screw. So I borrowed a screwdriver and during my first round I punched the clock, then unscrewed each key. I timed my walk, labeled each key, and found a nice office to settle in for the night. Then on the hour, I’d start punching the keys over the course of 20 minutes. Near the end of the shift, I’d walk around screwing in each key as I punched them for the last time.

One night I fell asleep and missed two entire hours of punching. I never heard anything about it, so I got even lazier. Eventually I would just go through and punch all the keys one after the other at the top of each hour, with no time between punches. Again, heard nothing. I began to suspect that nobody ever looks at the paper disks. At first, I enjoyed my little shortcut, happy that I didn’t have to go out into the creepy dark factory, or out in the rain, cold or snow. But I kinda felt bad about it all, and it actually made a long night even longer without the hourly walks. And how much Organic Chemistry could one study anyway!?!?

About halfway through the semester I stopped unscrewing the keys and made the hourly walks.

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For many years I thought about that job and the shortcut I had taken. At first I was amused that I’d figured a simple way around the task, but then it began to bother me. I was concerned that I’d uncovered a character flaw. Was I a shortcut kind of guy? Why was I so willing to eschew my duties just because nobody was looking? Did I take pride in figuring a way out?

I now chalk it up to immaturity and a healthy dose of laziness. There might even be a smidge of a puzzle-solving mentality mixed in there, but that might be generous of me. Either way, I’m glad I did it because it served as a cautionary tale and provided me with the incentive to tamp down any of those tendencies, should they arise.

Oh, by the way, I did pass Organic Chemistry that semester, earning a pathetic C in both the core course and the Lab. So among the lessons learned that semester was the fact that I hate Organic Chemistry. Then again, I already knew that.

Be well and thanks for reading.

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