An unusual Ivy league benfit
As a contractor for Harvard I enjoy many benefits: A high wage for being a body that can walk, talk, and write scribbles (15.08 plus time and a half for overtime which is every week since I cover for actual Harvard employees who have the most absurd amount of sickdays in the galaxy.), a good amount of downtime where I can indulge in eating, writing or whatever strikes my fancy, and free food! But its not all roses.
I have to deal with college kids that live in an institutionally made bubble of hedonistic delight; many are self important and sneer at my positions duty of checking their bags. My hours can be long and tiring and I keep in mind my future paycheck that adds a bit more joy to my otherwise dull days.
But yesterday wasn't dull. The day was a gruelling 16 hour marathon, a circus of incidents which called for my body to be in constant transition. The thoughts "I'm not payed to do this" and "I'm not trained to do this" echoed through my skull as I tried to repair a computer. 8 am to midnight came and went, ugh, and at the end I reached a manic dillirium which I rather like since it seems to melt away all anxiety and meekness. Once my relief came all I wanted to do was go home and get some rest since I needed to be up in 8 hours. I picked up my helmet from my locker (which is in the men's room a fact that has caused me some neurosis but thats another story) and was heading out when Phil, the late night security guard, told me that we were going to take a walk. I thought to myself that he must have been kidding but he wasn't, then I was scared since I don't know him very well and its quite possible he likes to mollest boyish looking men, only the flying spaghetti monster knows. After all of that I saw a sincerity in his eyes that wished for my best interest so I went with him.
As we walked we were joined by two other security guards and then we saw a group of Harvard college students forming an outline to what appeared to be a race track.
"What's going on?" I cried but no one spoke.
"Nothings going on. I'm tired and I need to go to sleep." I said.
"Nick" Phil spoke softly and with heavy emotion like he was about to entrust me with a secret.
"Naked chicks will be running around here. Guys too but I won't be looking at them."
"You're kidding," He wasn't. "I guess I can stick around for that"
The Primal Scream occurs every year at Harvard days before finals. The expereince was anticlimactic since I was so tired but I did lose myself in the moment and yelled for a cartwheel from one of the participating students. I remarked to one of the guards that it was "a total sausage fest" since the ratio of men to women was comporable to a gamer's convention. After two laps of nakedness I biked home, went to bed and now I'm at work typing away.
I have to deal with college kids that live in an institutionally made bubble of hedonistic delight; many are self important and sneer at my positions duty of checking their bags. My hours can be long and tiring and I keep in mind my future paycheck that adds a bit more joy to my otherwise dull days.
But yesterday wasn't dull. The day was a gruelling 16 hour marathon, a circus of incidents which called for my body to be in constant transition. The thoughts "I'm not payed to do this" and "I'm not trained to do this" echoed through my skull as I tried to repair a computer. 8 am to midnight came and went, ugh, and at the end I reached a manic dillirium which I rather like since it seems to melt away all anxiety and meekness. Once my relief came all I wanted to do was go home and get some rest since I needed to be up in 8 hours. I picked up my helmet from my locker (which is in the men's room a fact that has caused me some neurosis but thats another story) and was heading out when Phil, the late night security guard, told me that we were going to take a walk. I thought to myself that he must have been kidding but he wasn't, then I was scared since I don't know him very well and its quite possible he likes to mollest boyish looking men, only the flying spaghetti monster knows. After all of that I saw a sincerity in his eyes that wished for my best interest so I went with him.
As we walked we were joined by two other security guards and then we saw a group of Harvard college students forming an outline to what appeared to be a race track.
"What's going on?" I cried but no one spoke.
"Nothings going on. I'm tired and I need to go to sleep." I said.
"Nick" Phil spoke softly and with heavy emotion like he was about to entrust me with a secret.
"Naked chicks will be running around here. Guys too but I won't be looking at them."
"You're kidding," He wasn't. "I guess I can stick around for that"
The Primal Scream occurs every year at Harvard days before finals. The expereince was anticlimactic since I was so tired but I did lose myself in the moment and yelled for a cartwheel from one of the participating students. I remarked to one of the guards that it was "a total sausage fest" since the ratio of men to women was comporable to a gamer's convention. After two laps of nakedness I biked home, went to bed and now I'm at work typing away.