Actually, I’m rather surprised.
…surprised that my kids didn’t turn out to be freaking mutants, that is…
Back in my Sophomore year at ye ol’ Rolla High School, I had the pleasure of taking Chemistry from the most beloved teacher in all the school, Mr. Raff. Now, Mr. Raff was an affable older gentleman, who was seemingly constantly teetering on the edge of going full Nutty Professor.
In my humble opinion, the best part were his quips, constantly bestowing us with trademark phrases such as “…and then I say to myself, ‘Self, two plus two is four!’ And then I pat myself on the back…”
That was definitely my favorite. And he was definitely my favorite teacher from my long and storied academic career.
But…
But, he did have one little blemish on his record…
It was a lovely autumn afternoon back in ’96, and Mr. Raff had just challenged us Chemistry students to use our scientific skills to determine the chemical composition of a mystery liquid. I clearly remember that one of the specific tasks was to measure the density of said liquid.
Me and my lab partner, David–the only two underclassmen in the group–sat out to measure the volume of it straightaway, employing the services of a trusty graduated cylinder. If you don’t recall, a graduated cylinder is basically a tall glass measuring cup, with a base so it can stay upright on its own, and a c-shaped plastic ring that you can move up and down to get a more accurate measurement of what your liquid level is. For your convenience, here is a stock photo of one almost identical to the one in this story:1Image source: https://labcommerce.com/labequip_productdesc.php?catid=52&prodid=1329
There I was, sitting at the lab bench, waiting for David to jot down our scientific observations, when I had the brilliant idea to pop the ring off of the cylinder. Don’t know what I thought I would achieve by doing this, but apparently in that moment I felt compelled to fool around with the lab equipment. This was easily achieved by merely twisting the ends of the ‘C’ in opposite directions, and–boom! Pops right off!
However, I had made the fatal mistake of not taking a Physics class before I took Chemistry, as I then would have known that “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”
As I popped the ring off away from me, the cylinder had to compensate by tipping over towards me.
With a loud “thunk” it landed on its side on the lab bench, draining all 21.4 ml of Mystery Liquid over the side…and directly into my chair and general crotch region.
And to top things off, my lab chair had an ergonomic butt-shaped seat,2I tried finding an image of this online, but I couldn’t, probably on account of the fact that shit like this happened to too many teenage scientists and they had to be discontinued. allowing the Liquid to conveniently pool in my Netherlands, completely soaking the underside of my blue jeans.
You can’t even imagine the sheer horror of a teenage boy realizing that he just spilled an unknown substance all over his untapped genetic reserves. “Oh, The Humanity!” indeed!
Worse yet, much to my consternation, I found myself “scientifically observing” that our Mystery Liquid “caused an unbearable burning sensation of the balls.”
As expected, David was doubled over in laughter at my predicament and was far too thoroughly incapacitated to be of any medical assistance. And by that time, the rest of the class had figured out what was going on as well, but not a ----- one of those bastards seemed very sympathetic to my plight. I was literally fighting for the lives my future children here, and all I was getting was breathless howls of laughter from the ----- peanut gallery.
Of course, the esteemed Mr. Raff would be there for me in my time of need, right? Right…?
I turned only to find him literally slapping his knees and guffawing so hard that he could barely get any words out.
I was beyond frantic at that point, and desperately needed him to get his shit together and help me out, as pre-enacted in this scene:3From the 1980 hit movie, Airplane! Gif source: https://thumbs.gfycat.com/BountifulUnconsciousDuckbillplatypus-size_restricted.gif; Youtube clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0GW0Vnr9Yc.
This is not one bit an exaggeration of what happened: I actually did have him by the shoulders trying to rattle some sense into him, accompanied by the only appropriate thing to say in such a moment:
“STOP LAUGHING AND TELL ME WHAT THE HELL I JUST SPILLED ON MY SCROTUM, Howard, you Heartless Fool! Oh! The BURNING!”
As much as I loved the old fart, I maintain that it was borderline child abuse on his part to continue laughing for another good 2 minutes before advising me “Not to worry, just go to the bathroom and rinse them off as best as you can.”
When I returned 15-20 minutes later–now with only moderate groin discomfort and a stack of paper towels stuffed in my underwear, (my clothing in that area was still soaked, after all)–I still had many unanswered questions.
Well, just the one question actually: “Will I ever be able to have children? You know, ones with exactly 10 fingers and exactly 10 toes?”
If I recall correctly, the Mystery Liquid turned out to be “just benzene,” and good ol’ Mr. Raff assured me that “[my] junk would be fine once the rash goes away in a few weeks and the hair grows back.”
Fortunately, he was only messing with me about the whole “few weeks” part. I, however, was not bemused.
And I must say, I am even less bemused now that I have access to Google and I can fact-check his lying ass:
I can’t believe I trusted you, Howard. You and your balled-face lies…
Content created on: 21/22 October 2020 (Weds/Thurs)
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