My Craziest Term Paper Help Experience
By Benjamin Goetz, Psychology Term Paper Survivor
When I was a second-semester senior in college, I got into a bit of a snafu because I completely forgot about a term paper I had due for my Psychology of Personality class. It was a ten page term paper, eight sources required, on some famous psychology professor whose name I don't even remember anymore. Now, this class wasn't supposed to cause me any problems; it was pretty much the easiest of the psychology survey courses. There were two psychology term papers due, each worth 50% of our final grade. On the first paper I had gotten a B+, probably just because I had written the thing in like two hours. I figured I would try a little harder on the second one, get an A, and end up with an A- for the course.
Well, I don't even know where my head was, because the night before that psychology term paper was due, I was out playing poker in the frat house until five o'clock in the morning. At precisely 5:14, while walking home from the bagel place (where I had just picked up a yummy late-night scrambled egg and cheese sandwich), it hit me like a shot to the head: I had forgotten to do my psychology term paper. Now, my class was in four hours. Could I have somehow churned it out and gotten to class on time? Under optimal conditions, maybe-if I was in a great mood, it was about seven o'clock in the evening, and I had just finished a good work-out at the gym. But the situation was quite different. My head was light, my eyes were heavy, and the air had a soft, fuzzy quality to it. Realistically, I needed to pass out for about eleven hours. There was no way this psychology term paper was getting done.
Where was I going to get term paper help? It was 5:30 in the morning! No friend of mine, no term paper service, no entity at all, could do anything for me on such short notice. I freaked out for about ten more minutes and then finally I made a decision. I was going to have to sleep for a couple of hours, skip class, and hand it in to the professor later in the day, claiming I had had a sudden illness.
I fell into a worried sleep for two and a half hours. When I woke up, my head was buzzing, my eyes were stinging, and I had a stomach ache. God, I hated school. For six hours I worked, and finally, just about the time class was ending, I ran to the classroom with my psychology term paper in hand. Actually, the class had ended about ten minutes ago, and there was no one there now except the TA. I ran in, psychology term paper in hand, and explained everything. I still remember this guy. His name was Jeff, he was about 29 years old, overweight, and brillo-headed. I always felt kind of sorry for him, and figured he must have been a timid, friendly person.
But when I came to him, panting from the run over, distress exuding from every part of my being, he simply looked me square in the eye and said "No late term papers."
"Please" I begged him. "I'm sick as a dog. I think I have the flu. It took all my strength to produce this term paper, help me out here."
"Nope" he replied, just as calmly as before. "I told you the first day of class - psychology term papers are taken very seriously here. We don't tolerate lateness."
It slowly dawned on me that he had no intention of accepting my term paper. Oh, no! What is wrong with this fat loser freak? Why is he being such a hard-ass? How could he deny me the opportunity to hand in a twenty-minute-late term paper, thereby factoring in an F for 50% of my grade and making me fail the class? I was a senior, for God's sake!
My mind raced. I needed to do something, anything to break his barrier of composure. Suddenly I felt my eyes getting watery, my breaths becoming shorter, and my body stiffening up.
"PLEASE!" I insisted. "You don't know what my dad will do to me if I fail a class."
I knew my dad would probably just flick me in the head and tell me I was a monkey, but the excuse sounded so right. He had to feel bad for me if he thought I was abused.
"There's nothing I can..." he began.
"No, you have no idea! He'll kill me. He'll literally beat the hell out of me. This can't happen. Oh, please, please! Please accept my term paper. You don't know what it will do for me."
I was acting on instinct. Naturally, I was a little nervous about making such a bold lie, but then again, I reasoned, he couldn't prove it.
I could see his eyes softening up a little bit. His thin little lips were pursed and he appeared to be contemplating something. "Well..." he caved. "I have to say, that's an awful thing to hear. When I was younger I knew a few kids whose parents hit them, and I always felt like they were taking out their personal problems on their children. It's a very sad person who has to resort to abuse."
I was feeling a little pissed off that he was insulting my dad, but I knew he was commenting on a person who didn't exist, and more importantly, my grade was riding on this, so I contained myself. Eventually he gave in.
"Okay, I suppose I can ask the professor about it. He looks down on this sort of thing, but I'll explain to him that there will be some serious consequences for you if you don't hand in this term paper. I can't guarantee you he'll care though. You'll have to explain the situation to him."
"Thank you!" I squealed, practically kissing his fat hand. He instructed me to come back at five o'clock, when the professor would be in.
Like a soldier on a mission, I left the office and proceeded directly to my dorm room. I had one hour to make this professor accept my psychology term paper. Sorting through all my clothes, I dressed myself up to a hilt: full suit, shirt, tie, and patent leather shoes. I then headed over to the gym.
With forty-five minutes to go before my meeting, I got on the treadmill and started running. One lap, two laps, four laps, a mile. Everyone was staring at the odd sight of a student in full formal attire running like his life depended on it. I didn't care, though; I had graduating to worry about.
By the time five o'clock came around, I was drenched in sweat. I had run just over three miles, and felt like I was about to die. Clutching my psychology term paper in my sweaty, tremulous hand, I jogged over to the psychology department and had a seat on the bench outside of the professor's office.
As it turned out, the professor was walking in just as I arrived. I met eyes with him and informed him that I had a meeting with him.
"Oh yes, yes" he said, looking me up and down. "Are you all right? Your face is covered with sweat."
"I'm just... worried" I croaked.
"Okay, well, I suppose I won't need to meet with you in my office. Listen, we have a strict policy about late term papers. But, since Jeff explained your circumstance to me, I'll make an exception. Give me your paper and I will look it over. I will count it as 25% percent of your grade and give you a "W" as your grade. You have two weeks to produce another ten page psychology term paper on Messerschmidt's personality research. Got it?"
"Yes sir, thank you so much."
"All right, then. Take care of yourself now."
As I walked away, I had a mild sense of relief, a medium sense of victory, and a great feeling of anger. What the hell was wrong with that guy? He gives an abused student who handed in his term paper twenty minutes late a whole other ten page paper to do? What a prick! What a sadist! Now I had to spend my graduation time worrying about getting this done.
You can believe I wasn't about to put up with his mean-spiritedness. I scoured the internet for services that would provide me with term paper help. I almost went with one service that I thought was giving me a great deal, and then I remembered how I had used one a couple of years ago and it gave me the worst paper ever. I decided to go with a service that was more expensive, and that had an actual phone number I could call. That's how I came across Sparrow Educational Services. I read their whole website and they really seemed like a bunch of nice guys. The founders all graduated from Yale, and they started the service to help out students who were in need of term paper help. I called and spoke to this guy Bob, and he was very reassuring. I explained to him how I needed term paper help, and he told me that he could provide me with some excellent research for me to use in my own paper. And that's exactly what I did. Three days later, I had an excellent model paper in my hands. I used a lot of the good parts, cited it as a source, and, three weeks later, I graduated with an A- in Psychology of Personality.
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