Absent-minded ( Archived) (4)

At upper secondary technical school, I had a professor in chemistry who was quite absent-minded, a nice, old-fashioned, knowledgeable professor, but nevertheless absent-minded, he was.

For the sake of the story…. let’s call him Martin, as that happened to be his name.

Away, on a trip abroad, Martin once called home to his family, simply to say hi and check that everything was ok. Upon his son picking up the phone on the other end, Martin utters the words that will forever remain classic in the school where he was a professor until retirement:
- Hi, this is Martin, is your father home?

Our chemistry class was in the new, added building, right next to the main building, where on the fourth floor every Thursday morning, we would set magnesium on fire, mix oxygen and hydrogen to get Oxyhydrogen, which would give a loud bang when lit, we would turn led into gold, and we opened a sperm-bank with Xenon-enriched sperm to give a high-quality produce which we made some money on the side of. We would gather all us students, right before class, line up, drop our pants, bring forth a test tube each….. nah, these last bits here aren’t true, of curse, only wanted to check if you were paying attention.
A classmate did once fake that he had downed a sample of sulfuric acid, just to scare the shit out of us.

But back to the absent-minded professor! Every morning, he would do the same ritual. He would park the car down on the yard in front of the building, get his attaché case, which he for some reason always kept in the trunk of his car. We would already be seated as he had arranged for someone to open the classroom every morning for the kids who were there early. He’d walk into the classroom, greet as usual, lift and place his case up on the teacher’s desk, then take the jacket off, and usually spend 5 good minutes digging in that case, looking for to the day’s prepared lecture.

Only that one morning, he walks in and puts a red, 5 liter, petrol can on the table. Martin had walked four stairs to the top, without noticing that he was holding the petrol can instead of the case.

I’m getting a bit absent-minded.
I’ve been asked a couple of times this year how old I am, and I couldn’t say without double-checking.
How convenient.
If that’s the things you forget with age, I want to be senile when I grow up.

Good one.
How`s forgetting the car keys on the counter, getting to the car and realizing it, going back indoors and forgetting why?
Or looking for your glasses everywhere when they`re on your forehead.
2 things I do all the time.
Im getting there already!

Geeze Martin and I sound like we have a lot in common..but I haven't forgot my age yet...I'm hopin that ones not too far down the line....