trials of a fucking cyberwitch over here
this red-faced old fuck with a louisiana police ballcap comes in for an open-book open-notes open-laptop essay exam for a history course, the kind of test where you can basically write the essay beforehand and copy it down into a blue book. except he made special arrangements so that, using one of our laptops, he could just attach his pre-written essay to an email and send it to the testing center email address so that we could then forward it, in an official capacity, to the professor.
picture the incredulity on his face when i inform him, with infinite patience, that if he is on our computers, he cannot attach a file that only exists on his computerās hard drive to an email. because it isĀ not on our computers.Ā i ask him if he emailed it to himself. āyesā
it is not in his campus mail. āmaybe itās in my hotmail, how do i open up the hotmail?ā i tell him he types in hotmail.com into a new tab. i show him how to open a new tab. he types āHOTGMAIL.CLOMā
i tell him he typed an extra g and l in there. he clicks between the t and the g and hits backspace.
i have to excuse myself ostensibly to help other testers so that i donāt burst out laughing right then and there. itās not in his hotmail. itās not in his aol. every time he feels he has something significant to say to me or wants my attention, he touches my arm. finally he shows me the binder he brought, with a printed-out copy of the essay inside. i say fuck it, weāll take it (in so many words), oh but the professor doesnāt want it with holes, well fine, weāll just scan the damn thing and send you on our way
heās gone now and iām still losing my shit over HOGMAIL.CLOM
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