A memory down trip lane

I am at the Memorial Union sitting in one of those orange sunburst chairs overlooking Lake Mendota. For the past several minutes I have been seriously considering getting myself a strawberry double-dip cone from The Daily Scoop. I don’t need one—I haven’t exactly been putting in the mega miles lately—but wow, would that hit the spot on this warm evening. It really is a gorgeous day. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, spring is here (and hopefully to stay). I can’t think of any place I’d rather be. Of course the college kids are all busily studying for their final exams. Boy am I glad I’m not one of them. Today is no day to be hitting the books.

BAM! Something just hit me on the head! What was that… a book? No. Something worse, something dark and unpleasant. Out of nowhere, a scary memory came crashing into my brain. Seeing all the students cramming away made me think of a particular final exam I took in my first year of college at UW Marshfield/Wood County. Or just “The Wood,” as everyone called it. Here’s a little memory down trip lane…

It was May 2018, seven years ago. My God has it been that long? I remember it like it was yesterday. I had two finals that day. The first final was on Custom Kurmfurling. That one I aced. It was a piece of cake. The second final didn’t go too well. The second final I took was on Zoology. Now here’s the thing. I needed a course that was two credits and the only two credit course that fit my schedule was Zoology. I’d heard from other students that the Zoology professor was a total dick. Well, I decided to take the class anyway. I liked going to the zoo to see all the animals when I was a little kid, so I guess I thought I might like the class. How wrong I was. I ended up skipping most of the class lectures because I couldn’t stand the professor. I should’ve listened to my peers.

I walked into the classroom that sunny afternoon in early May, sat down, and Professor Prick handed me the final exam. I looked at the first page. It had pictures of legs on it. Birds' legs. The instructions read: "Based on the picture, identify the name of the bird". There were at least 30 bird legs. "When am I ever going to need to know the name of a bird by looking at its legs?" I thought to myself. This is ridiculous. I got up, walked to the front of the room where the professor was sitting, and told him, "This is the dumbest test I've ever seen!" He looked back at me with his mean eyes and shot back, "In that case, you fail!" He grabbed my test. I hadn't written a single thing on it, not even my name. "I can't fail you if I don't know what your name is, mister. What is your name?" he asked me. I took a couple steps back, rolled my jeans up a few inches, and replied, "You tell me what my name is!" Then I turned around, walked out, and slammed the door in his face. I was sad and angry but most of all I think I was just relieved to get the hell out of there.

A cloud has drifted in front of the sun. Suddenly I don’t feel so hot. The memory of that depressing day back in 2018 gives me a chill. You know what would cheer me back up? Ice cream. Yes, I could sure go for a strawberry double-dip. Heck, I need one right now.