Three weeks into the quarter, and you are in five different study groups for your four classes. Your calendar is perpetually blocked off; you shuffle endlessly from Harper to MPP to Gleacher, accomplishing nothing because all your groups range from dysfunctional to downright neurotic. You walk home despondent, hoping against hope that there is a better way to form study groups than arbitrarily picking the student next to you on the first day…
There is. ChiBus has discovered that there is a relationship between how people load a dishwasher and how they operate in study groups. Readers are urged to observe classmates in their natural habitats loading dishwashers before answering the ultimate question of whether they will join a study group. Potential study mates appear to fall into four categories, with the first being far and away the most common (and crucial) at Booth:
- The Field Marshal: Dishwashers run on schedule at calendared 36-hour intervals. Dishes flow in one smooth process from cabinets, to the dinner table, to the sink for pre-rinsing, to immediate stacking in the dishwasher. If you are a noob practitioner of this exalted science, the Field Marshal will deign to demonstrate once at what angle and in what pattern mugs, glasses and bowls must be stacked on the upper tray, how plates and pans are spatially arranged on the lower tray for maximum efficiency, and how cutlery must always point up to be exposed to the water jets. If public humiliation is your thing, get your next fix by messing around with the Field Marshal as he/she stacks the dishwasher.
Overall grade: A-. You may have to go home crying because you missed a semicolon on your report, but hey, at least work gets done.
- The Dish Ninja: Like a good elf, a Dish Ninja is never heard or seen. The ninja is that rare classmate (generally from the Clan of the Invisible 200) who won’t voice an opinion until asked, but the words (and the work) that flow forth are pure gold. The ninja only gets into action when someone (typically the Field Marshal) instructs him to, and disposes of the dishes with unmatched speed and efficiency, for a sparkling clean work product, before disappearing into the night, lest he gets dragged to TNDC.
Overall grade: A+. Perfect recipe for doing no work all quarter, learning be damned. Now, only to find the elusive ninja…
- The Lovable Incompetent: He’s so bad, he’s good. The Incompetent tries hard every single time, but always manages to stack that one glass right on top of a bowl, ensuring that it’ll never get washed. Invariably, the Field Marshal will relieve him of his duties and hand them off to the Ninja, but the Incompetent will stick around, mumbling something about working harder the next time.
Overall grade: B-. Hopeless for any work output, the Incompetent is an excellent person to have around to boost the team’s self-esteem by comparison.
- The Anti-Ninja: The consummate con artist that he is, the Anti-Ninja will be conspicuously absent throughout the dishwashing process, but will miraculously reappear right as the dishes are being removed from the dishwasher. With a “sermon on the mount”-like air, he will begin a discourse on the quality of the cleanliness and how tweaks can be made to achieve greater effect, immediately before disappearing into the night again (akin to the actual Ninja).
Overall grade: F. Must be avoided at all costs—former or hopeful consultants are most likely to fit the bill.
Further research is underway, as we continue to identify more dishwasher loading habits of Boothies. For now, ChiBus sincerely hopes that readers will use the Maytag-Whirlpool test effectively to identify ideal mates for their dishwashing and academic endeavors.