Halfway through the lab period it finally donned on me that Z was completely incompetent.  Not only with her dating life, as she explained that the love of her life (2 month relationship) had broken up with her, but also with her school life.

I realized I needed to prevent anymore damage from being done.

So I did what any PhD does with their undergraduate researcher, I did what any babysitter does with an annoying little kid, I did what Tom Sawyer brilliantly did to his fellow peers. 

Well kind of, but still brilliantly:

Me: “Hey Z, the prof. said we have to culture each of the vials into the liquid tube medium.”

Z: “What the f*ck? That’s like 10 different cultures!”

Me: “I’ll work on the other stuff, can you finish the cultures?”

Z: “F*ck, alright.”

Low and behold Z worked rigorously until the end of the lab period preparing those useless cultures.

She never questioned the complete irrelevancy of her task, nor the constant laughing from the guy sitting across from us who knew exactly what I was doing.

But you know what they say, ignorance is bliss.

When she was done I told her just to leave the cultures on the table.  I would do her a favor and put them in the “incubator.”

Yea, “incubator.”

The spill is finally cleaned up.  We will have to redo that Pseudomonas test tube.  Points are taken off.

Ok, I can live with that.  One “mistake.”  It won’t happen again, or at least for a while, because people well they learn from their mistakes.

At least that’s what I hoped, right before Z lifted the next test tube out of the rack.

BY THE DAMNED TOP.

Same story as last time.

It spills.

I could have told her to use the Crystal Violet to wash her hands with, but by this time I’m just depressed.

This is like that 3 minute puking scene in Family Guy.  It’s pointless, it’s not funny, and it’s just wasting time.

At this point, I do what any wise person would do.  I hold up each individual test tube for her to look at.  I tell her not to touch anything.

So today we had to view the results from our bacterial cultures which we (ahem, I) prepared yesterday and placed in the incubator.

All in all, we had 14 test tubes with a variety of bacteria and growth medium.

After looking at each test tube and recording results, I hand the test tube rack to Z.

I tell her to “be very careful.”

Unfortunately Z does not know the meaning of careful.  She lifts a test tube out of the rack by the cap, and the test tube instantly falls from under the cap spilling nasty smelling Pseudomonas bacteria all over the table.

I facepalm myself.  I do it hard to subliminally tell everyone around me that I’m sick and tired of working with this stupid ape.  I also hope, while in the process of hitting myself in the head, that I can actually knock myself out, and save myself the embarrassment of actually being associated with this idiotic scum.

When the test tube spills she instantly lets out a string of cursing that would put Timberlake’s Alpha Dog character to shame. 

Then guess what she does next?

She goes on to blame me!

Me!

Ok Z, let’s quickly go over what our Prof. reminds us of everyday:

“Remember that the caps are loose, so always hold the test tubes by the body.”

It’s also logical to pick up something by the base or the body, not the top.  I mean, you wouldn’t pick up a baby by its head would you?

Wait, that could explain a lot.

But anyways, back to the story.  Z starts to panic.  Instead of ensuring her that everything will be alright, I decide to have a little fun:

Me: “You know that stuff is super toxic, don’t you?”

Z: “Sh*t, you can’t be f*cking serious.”

Me: “Yea, my neighbor got Pseudomonas on his arm once, it ended up having to be amputated.”

Z: “Oh my God, oh my God.”

Me: “I think it would be a good idea to use the emergency pull shower.”

Z: “Prof.’s gonna get f*cking pissed if I do that.”

Me: “Yea you’re right.  I’m sure if you wash your hands and arms with acetone, you’ll be ok.  That stuff’s strong.”

After she finishes dousing her hands with a full bottle of acetone in the back of the lab, she complains that “it’s like motherf*cking burning!! and motherf*cking cold!!” all at the same time.

She also ruined her “motherf*cking nailpolish.”

I feel no remorse.  Furthermore, I feel that I underperformed, since the caustic Crystal Violet mix was sitting right next to the acetone.

Now on to Volume 2 of this madness.

Hey Z, that dead body on the gurney in the Anatomy Lab, it’s called a cadaver.  

Not a cadyver…

…That is, unless it uses nothing but a toothpick and shoelaces to escape the lab.

Z asked me how I did on Midterm #1.  I told her I did well.  I asked her how she did.  She said she did alright and proceeded to tell me her score.  I calculated the percentage in my head.

44%

This class does not have a curve.

So a Bunsen Burner is basically a gas powered candle.  You turn on the gas and immediately light the Bunsen Burner, much like a gas stove.  Immediately lighting gas highly reduces the risk of natural gas poisoning.  Also, it is common sense.

But not to all.  Z insists that the gas must be turned on for 5 minutes (yes, 5 MINUTES) before lighting.  Z states that this gives the Bunsen Burner time to “warm up.”

Thanks to Z’s overwhelming knowledge of basic chemistry and physics, we have officially solved the Mystery of the Horrid Gas Smell in the Lab.

So today I met Z.  Stereotypical ditsy Middle Eastern girl.  Quite the boaster and quite the talker.  Her vocabulary is very limited, however her proficiency with profanity is quite astounding. 

She told me that she graduated from Dominican University.  She stated that she turned down CSU East Bay (GASP! OMG!) to go there.  She claimed that it was an elite private school located in the SF area.  I didn’t buy it when I heard her say it, and now I really don’t buy it after looking up the statistics.

The average SAT score for a Dominican University accepted individual is 1300-1700.  Pretty low if you ask me.  Oh, and high school transcripts are “recommended.”  You’re joking right?   If you want more info on this “top-notch” school, here’s the stats:

http://collegeprowler.com/dominican-university/statistics/

But the madness doesn’t end there.  Her friend who sits across from me (whom we shall name L) also told me about the “prestigious” and “world class college” she graduated from.   San Jose State University.  At this point, I had to hold back laughter.  SJSU.  “The last two years of Junior College” as my dad so eloquently put it one day.

If you don’t know about SJSU you might as well read the stats posted below.  Now I’m not trying to bash on SJSU, because I do know a fair amount of smart people who go to/have graduated from SJSU. (same may be true for Dominican) 

But to consider SJSU prestigious and world class is just BS.  It’s like slapping a Maserati sticker over the Ford logo on your Pinto.  It just isn’t cool, nor honest.

http://collegeprowler.com/san-jose-state-university/statistics/

I recently graduated from UCLA with a BS in Biology.   I will be starting Optometry school this August, however, during this summer I have to take a Microbiology course for lab credit (this stemmed mainly from procrastination and apathy during the undergrad years).  I decided to take the course at CSM, a community college located in San Mateo, due to ease and brevity.

Things were going well the first two weeks.  I was working at a lab table of pre-nursing students from SFSU.  But sadly, all good things must end.  This Monday each of us was randomly assigned a lab partner. 

At first I thought, “it can’t be that bad; as long as I don’t get the loud, pregnant, lesbo-haircut, foul-mouthed, pscyho girl with a forearm-spanning tattoo of Mickey Mouse.”  Immediately after I started working with my chosen partner, whom I shall name Z, I wished that I had received any other partner. 

Even the Disneyphilic baby-wielder.

Z is the biggest idiot I have ever met in my life.  I am not joking.  Her buffoonery puts me in a state of awe.  Her stupidity makes me fear what the human life is capable of doing.  If you crossed the Jersey Shore cast with a blunt rock, you still wouldn’t have enough stupid to compete with her.  

If you don’t believe me, you will, as I present daily evidence that I have in fact found one of the dumbest people on this planet.