You know one thing I miss about college? Skipping classes. I didn’t skip one class in high school. Too straight edge, operated under a distinct fear of consequences. I knew a kid that missed about a month straight of Spanish. He just didn’t show, everyone in class said he was sick and the teacher never checked the master attendance list. As a class we made him a get well card. I’m not sure how that ended up, but regardless of the punishment, I never would have tried something so bold. I didn’t skip a month straight in college, either. I don’t want to give the wrong impression, but when I realized you could skip an occasional class in college and get away with essentially no punishment? That was a hell of a feeling. So, in a mini-anecdote slideshow, here are my top-five class cuts/walk-outs.
5. ~Property Law. I don’t remember exactly what the class was called, but it was basically: What happens if you build a driveway on your neighbors land and use it for 20 years straight with no complaint, only one day you find a treasure map to a Honus Wagner card, and you need to use said driveway, but you also have to borrow your babysitter’s horse, and she doesn’t have equine insurance. If you made it through law school, god bless you, but these tests which were just odd scenarios that you had to re-explain using property law jargon were aggressively boring. We’d spend an entire class going over them. Useless? You betcha. So, I started skipping them. The professor thought he was slick by insisting you come to his office to pick up the test. He wouldn’t give it back to you the next class. I guess that would include a tsk, tsk for missing class, but it assumes one thing: You can’t go the entire semester without knowing your grade. Challenge Accepted, Sir.
4. The, Madden? Madden. Moment. It might be a bit simple to say that JCK and I bonded solely over Madden. That would ignore countless moonlit walks to Turkey Hill, but Madden played a huge part in fighting through the awkwardness of suddenly living with someone you’ve never met. The first few weeks of class went by without incident, and I was in the high school routine of show up at all costs, but one crisp Autumn day outside Stager Hall, JCK and I looked at each other on the way into a class, and had an epiphany. Would you rather go to class, or would you rather play Madden? That day we chose Madden, and history was thusly altered.
3. 21 years and 1 day old. I’ve told this story before. I may have had too much to drink on my 21st birthday. Somehow the next day I made it to Constitutional Law Class, but I didn’t make it all the way through. BK saw me from across the street on my way back to the apartment and immediately started laughing hysterically. It was pretty funny, but what happened inside the actual class? Con Law was just as tedious as ~Property Law, but more interesting, because it dealt with actual court cases as opposed to Harry Potter-esque fictional scenarios. The class was held, though, in one of the oldest buildings on campus. It was this stuffy, claustrophobic relic, and it wasn’t the spot to be that day when I was criminally hungover. I will say I felt terrible about doing it, because the professor was actually a nice guy and he was always so jazzed on Con Law, but sometime during that lecture I tuned out and started thinking about how hungover I was. I started sweating/panicking, wondering if I could possibly throw up right there, and instinct eventually took over. I bolted out the side-door.
2. I only take “field-trips” to the Zoo. That’s true actually. I had a class at F&M that was about rainforests and one day we took a field-trip to the Zoo in D.C, and hit the Baltimore aquarium on the way back. Just a nice little Saturday. Somehow we managed to drive ourselves and avoided riding in the van with the rest of the class, which was key, and I stomached the trip. Who am I to pass up an opportunity to see a Tiger? But, that wasn’t my only field trip. Senior year, for Chinese Art History (are you jealous of my well-rounded education yet?), we were supposed to take another van ride. This time it was a day-trip to Princeton’s art museum, where apparently the collection of Chinese Art was off the charts. Spending a day with this particular professor was simply out of the question. So myself, and the only other person I knew in the class, Whiteman (his actual last name) didn’t show for the van. Only regret? The F&M box lunch that went to waste.
1. Do I look like a Scientist? Among the many class requirements at F&M, you had to take a lab science. For someone not really test-tube inclined, this meant taking Psychology, which was as boring as you’d expect, but also included a weekly, 3-hour lab. I imagine you are now horrified, and rightly so. I don’t remember many specific from Psych Lab aside from the rats. We did rat experiments. Not mazes, but various other rat IQ tests. Is this where I say that I don’t “do” rodents of any kind? I had a lab partner who handled all rat transactions, but on one occasion he did not make the class. So, when we were told to go fetch our rats from their cages, I went ahead and just walked out. Made it the first 18 years of my life without carrying a rat around, why start now?