Bigwigs from the National Institutes of Health (NIH) toured/inspected our lab yesterday. Specifically, the ones who have written the checks that have kept our lab labbin’-it-up for year and years. Yesterday morning I got frenzied instructions to set up my experiment by tour time to demonstrate an example of our lab’s research (or more accurately: to show off how sick our stunts are).
I did.
Everything fell into place perfectly (in contrast to every other shit-hit-fan demo I’ve attempted). Boss and sub-boss sauntered in and talked polished talk as monk remained engrossed in his neuronally-controlled video game. The visitors nodded feign-interestedly when bosses described my experiment as if they themselves had set up and run it. It could not have gone better… for my bosses.
To the visitors, boss said: “this is Ryan Eaton, a grad student here in the lab”. He then patronized “shake hands Ryan… now nevermind us, we know you’re busy”. And before I got the chance to utter anything awkward or embarrassing, bosses continued their carefully-scripted orations. Nodded and smiled they did at everything these business-suited big-cheeses said, no matter how ludicrous.
Eventually the group headed downstairs for a more “official” discussion. I remained up in the lab, doing what I do best: the grunt work. Following the meeting between the bigwigs and just about all other lab personnel but me, I was informed that my project was the subject of much interest and discussion.
Maybe someday, when I learn to make nice and talk pretty, I can sit at the grown-up table and actually get the opportunity to speak for myself.
