The day I sold my soul for a better grade.

That Professor Wu is one devious man.

Today in Theories and Processes he dangled the bait. And let me tell you. I jumped.

For three whole points added to the final grade... THREE POINT... I hope you understand how huge that is... I'm serious.

For three whole points added to the final grade, all I had to do was go sit in a basement at a cubicle with a phone and harass old people and immigrants during their dinners, which I would interrupt to ask personal and complicated questions.

We were given a headset and directed to the appropriate SurveyMonkey questionnaire. Sheets of paper displayed anonymous phone numbers we were supposed to call.

"Hi, my name's Maria and I'm calling from a creepy basement in a small brownstone at Boston University to harass you during your down time, time you're probably using to feed yourself, care for your children and enjoy the few hours of your life you have free. May I continue?"

I hate myself.

Most people either didn't answer or hung up on me. The girl next to me was hung up on a lot. I had to stop her from re-dialling and screaming, "BITCH! I'M A PERSON TOO!" (I'm serious)

So two people were nice enough to complete the survey for me. Luckily they didn't realize that although I said it would only take 10 minutes, it would actually take over 20.

The first was an older gentleman who didn't speak much English. He didn't understand my opening spiel but agreed to the interview anyway. He laughed at many of the questions, frequently replied with "I don't know anyting about dat" and made up answers that made no sense. When I asked what race he considered himself, he emphatically declared, "What? I'm Jamaiiiiiican!"

One of the questions we had to ask was: What do you think the three biggest problems facing our country are? The girl next to me showed me her screen as she typed the following reply from a participant, "Fire, jewelry, water."

The second and final person willing to participate over a span of two hours was an old man suspicious I was spying on him from outside his window. This is how it started.

Maria: Would you be willing to participate? It won't take long.
Man: Well... hang on... JANICE! Are you on the other line?!
Janice: Yes.
Man: WELL HANG UP THE PHONE! I got the TV going in there!
Janice: Ok. Ok.
Man: I can't hear!
Janice: [click]
Man: ...How did you get this number? Do you know who I am?

He stuck with the survey until the end. He was born in 1922, apparently, and felt he had the authority to declare that most of his answers were none of my business.

At least I didn't get the person who answered the phone by singing, "No bananas! I have no bananas for you today my friend! No!"