An URP's day at CSHL

It's 9am and I am awoken by the incessant beeping of my alarm.  Some how I
have managed the energy to role out of bed in time for bagel hour.
Breakfast, nah, that's for the few who don't work until the wee hours of
the morning, and the occasional URP who uses the cafeteria time for
dinner.  But for the rest of us it's the usual grab a bagel or donut on
the way to lab, and don't forget the coffee.  Must have coffee.  So I
stroll out of a cabin, mine maybe yes maybe no, but that's not for you to
know.  Lets just say it pays to not have many URP enemies.

Chuck walking down Bungtown Road

So its 10am, and I've munched my bagel and am on my third coffee, just
love that coffee.  Almost have enough energy to tackle the many obstacles
that lie ahead this Friday.  I work on corn, if you were wondering.  In
the lab of, well lets just say its in Delbruck.  On my way to develop my
negatives from the previous days screen I catch my post doc in the hall.
So, rather than rushing right to find out the results, it is my fourth
week on this screen and not a single god damn f-ing positive but that's
the life of an URP.  We chat about life and the usual, check out the
latest commercials on adcritic.com, and have a coffee or two.  He tells me
to go ahead with the screen but I should begin to focus my efforts
elsewhere, possibly some fun on the SEM later.  I go about my business,
the usual, no positives on the screen, pop in some classic rock in the
CD-player in lab to console my sorrows.

But who should appear at my lab door, being that I am known as URPee the
taxi cab driver, anyone and everyone.  Seems town is going the be the
destination of choice tonight, oh not for parting, dancing, or any of
that, its just the closest source of non-reagent grade ethanol, it is
Friday night you know.  A note to the wise, if you go to town with the
intention of acquiring said items make sure you hop on the line of a young
male cashier, for it seems they are the only ones who will accept valid
out of state IDs.

So its off to lunch at Blackford, seating at the URP table as usual.
Don't forget to stock up on cranberry and orange juice for later tonight.
And it seems my stash of ice cream in the -80 freezer is running low so
time to refill.  Food, well it's free so that means there's always enough,
but that's enough said.  A walk back to lab with 411 (nicknames of URPS
used to protect their true identity) it seems he wants to look at his hair
under the SEM.  After frying strand after strand I finally convince him
that the person who mentioned dandruff was only joking, seems those
Egyptians are sooo gullible, nudge::nudge.

Anyway, its back to my PCR, gels, plaque screens, and can't forget about
the corn.  Seems its shedding early and the life of a plant geneticist
would not be complete without spending a few hours wandering aimlessly
through the fields.  By the way, if you or anyone you know is a member of
the Earth Liberation Front, die you stupid ignorant bastard.  That said it
seems its time for dinner, Blackford, yes Blackford.  It's the final
planning  for tonight's party, the cabins will be rockin.  Let just say,
if you plan to acquire the services of women of the night through the
transaction of money, do not e-mail the idea to faculty members including
Jane Reader, she frowns upon such activity.

Just a few hours in lab to go before we can all unwind from a long week.
Tomorrow looks like a good wind; sailing with Montana Bob on the Double
Helix  should be as exciting a as actually getting a crystal to form in
your hanging drop, did I get that right Dougal.  Lets just hope its not a
drifter, I would hate to have to push sleepers over board, oh wait was
that me.  Well let me be off, it plans to be a long night of URP style
festivities.

Written by: Charles Kopec