Mr. Romero's lab coat

When I was in high school, I borrowed the chemistry/physics teacher's lab coat. I was set to play a mad scientist in a haunted house.

When I asked him to borrow the coat, I told him what we were doing and that I wanted to look as authentic as I could. We intended to spatter blood and guts around and I knew that I'd get spattered, too.

He said that he didn't mind getting his coat dirty, that a blood-spattered coat might make him more intimidating to unruly students.

My best friend played Igor. Another friend was my poor tortured patient. Patient screamed and thrashed around very convincingly, spattering me. Igor limped around with one shoulder higher than another, throwing blood and guts around freely. I was pretty convincing myself, speaking in a voice so deep, gravelly and frightening that I've never been able to use it again. From that night on, talking in that voice has sent me into coughing fits.



We put on a great show. We enjoyed the gasps and shrieks our onlookers produced. When the night ended, we howled with laughter as we discussed our reception.

Then I looked at Mr. Romero's previously immaculate coat. Caught up in the moment, we didn't notice how bad it had gotten. Jackson Pollock couldn't have done a better job of covering a canvas with paint. Think Joseph's Coat of Many Colors after his brothers had dipped it in blood. All laughter ceased as we contemplated what Mr. Romero would say and do to us.

When I took it back to him the next Monday, he turned as white as the coat had been. Long pause. "Are you SURE this is my coat?" he asked.

"Um, yes."

Long pause.

"Well, if I tell next year's freshmen that I've dissolved unruly students in a chemical bath, they'll believe me!"

Here's how to get a Mad Scientist's Union lab coat. I'm neither endorsing nor getting paid for this. The art was just too good to pass up and I can assuage my conscience by giving them the credit.

Bleach and ammonia

I've never taken a chemistry class, but here I am as the substitute. Duty calls!

I've always appreciated variety in my work. Substituting is definitely varied. The short notice doesn't tend to bother me, either. This is an adventure.

Before I left home this morning, Hubby suggested that I show the students how to mix bleach and ammonia. He tried that a few years ago when he was working as a maintenance man, even though he knew better. After all, he took chemistry in both high school and college.

I said, "What are you trying to get me to do? Make a bomb?"

"Don't you want some excitement in your life?"

"I had enough excitement when I found out that you'd done that a few years ago!"


Hubby said that he had been lucky to avoid chemical burns. "As soon as I poured them together, I had a volcano. They just shot up."

I said, "Didn't you read the directions?"

"Well, no. I had completely forgotten that ammonia and bleach are so volatile. And I'd also forgotten that they produce poisonous gas."

He had to flee the building. When he returned, the item was very clean.

"Hey, it worked!"

"Yes, but at what potential cost?"

NOTE: The bleach bottle image points up the need for recycling. Amazing how our garbage lasts forever.