I was in a class at law school conducted by McSwain, who sometimes seemed like Dohoney. The conversation turned to the question of whether classes should be extended to last an hour and a half instead of an hour. The students would then be given credit for an hour and a half instead of just and hour.

I said I thought the classes should be extended. McSwain didn't agree with me and asked me why I felt that way. I explained that as it was, we actually went for and hour and seven or eight minutes, but only received credit for an hour. Just getting ready to go to class and to walk there required much time. Probably five minutes was wasted arriving at class and another five minutes was wasted leaving. For going an extra 20-25 minutes, we could get a whole half hours worth of credit and not waist time going so often. That would mean we would have to spend less time in class. If we had more time we could take some extra subjects which interested us. I said, "Well, the administration seems to think that the student body is against it, but if you were to put it to a vote of the body, they'd find out. It's just that the administration does not seem to want this thing to be voted on cause they know what the result would be."

I recalled that I had recently been thinking of writing some opinions, signing my name to them, and putting them on the bulletin boards. I thought, "This would have been a good subject. I should have thought of this earlier before I got called on like this."

McSwain shook his head to acknowledge that he was listening to me. He then called on someone about five rows behind me and the person made a comment. McSwain then called on a blond-haired fellow one row behind me to my left. I thought his name was Macelroy, but McSwain called him Mr. Macelroywood. I looked back at the fellow. It looked as if were cross-eyed; I couldn't tell if he was looking at me. He said, "Well, I admire Steve. I don't know if anybody here realizes it or not, but Steve has twenty thousand hours of mendicant experience."

I knew he was referring to me, and I knew immediately what he meant. He was referring to my having been in jail for twenty thousand hours. I knew Macelroy was trying to put me down for having been in jail to try to tarnish my reputation. I was surprised by what Macelroy was saying. I had obviously misjudged him. A murmur passed through the room; a few hisses were directed at Macelroy. Someone said, "That Macelroy. He's just a downright dirty person."

I was chewing a piece of gum; I thought, "Well, should I be chewing it. Well, what if my face is red."

I pulled out a pencil to compute whether I had actually been in jail for 20,000 hours. I had never even thought about how many hours I had actually been in jail. I first thought I had been in jail for 9 months, then thought, "No, I was eight months there in jail."

McSwain let Macelroy continue to talk, without stopping him from saying anything about me. Most people in the room already knew I had been in jail, but I could tell that a few hadn't known and were surprised by the revelation.

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