I took a high tech course back in the seventies that required all of us students to complete related course work. One Quin-Mester, it was Machine Shop for three months, then Electronics, Frame Design, etc, etc. One was for Welding. I did very well at Gas Welding but Electric Welding was...well...uuhhmm... Ok fine,. It was pretty hazardous to anybody within twenty five feet of where I was welding. We had these little metal plates to practice on and the rod would get stuck and I'd jerk it and it would fly away...someplace. Rod and practice plate and all.
Thing was, if you failed one of the related courses, you failed the whole thing. To give you an idea of how tough it was, forty eight of us started. Two of us graduated. So anyway, on the last day of class for that Quin, the Welding Instructor called me into his office and closed the door. Thang he said. You know you have failed this course miserably, right? I nodded. But, he said. I know you're one of those Sons of Biotchs that'll just recycle and I'll have to deal with you again next class.
I said No sir. You'll see me sooner because I'll take a separate welding course here to get better at it. He closed his eyes, moaned and looked like he was starting to have a seizure. Then he got control of himself and said Oh Hell no. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to pass you with a grade good enough to get you thru but if anybody ever calls me for a reference on your welding, I'll tell them the truth about you. You hear me? I was fifty percent of the graduating class. He shook my hand at graduation. I heard him mumble Thank God.