The Biochem Lecture Hall

It was my turn again to teach the undergraduates in the Biochem lecture hall. Considering my previous experience when I had tried and tried to get the local people to get the computer and LCD projector to work, and my sense of dejection when my all efforts had failed not only to get this done, but also to contact anyone responsible in the department (they had been away attending a meeting regarding a raise, having a tea break, and some other things), I was not very hopeful it would be any better this time. The only thing I had achieved last time was making another enemy in the form of the Head of that department, who thought my complaint was a far greater sin than her inability to maintain the teaching tools in working order and someone to attend to the lecture hall. I removed the dead bolt on the front door myself and entered the lecture hall. Things were better today from the attendance point of view. There had been 14 students out of 180 plus a few casuals last time. This time there were 118. The attendant was nowhere to be seen. The audio system was not visible. The computer system and LCD projector looked dead. I spent ten minutes looking for the attendant, who was found in one of the inner chambers, with blood shot eyes, slurred speech, a little unsteady gait, a lot of incoherence, and a total unwillingness to get up. I could not make a medical diagnosis of his condition, but it looked like inebriation at 2:00 P.M. My medical colleagues would have perhaps diagnosed a complex syndrome, but I prefer to depend on my clinical instinct. He spent five minutes making the microphone functional, and another three making the fan operative. I could not trust him to start the computer and LCD projector, because I was afraid he would blow them up somehow. The micrrophone was already making a lot of crackling noise by itself. Then he went out and shot the dead bolt home, which I realized when I fiinished the lecture and tried to exit. I had to wait for the next teacher to rescue me. Unfortunately he remained a short distance away waiting for me to exit. When he heard me trying to break the door down by my banging, he and his Registrar came forward and let me out. Our red eyed attendant vehemently denied having locked me in along with 118 students. His sober looking colleague told me the Head of department was in her office and I could complain to her. I decided against that, because I could not increase her enmity towards me no matter how hard I tried. It had already reached its peak. Just then the next teacher's Registrar came out, looking for the attendant to start the computer. I had my first hearty laugh of the day then. It is momemnts like these that keep us sane in the mad world we live in during the working hours.