Chapter 23 The fourth big professor-2

While teaching at Cornell, I traveled to Buffalo every week to give lectures at the local aerospace lab.Cornell has a mutual agreement with this laboratory, and the school sends people to them to hold physics classes at night.Someone was responsible for this matter, but because of the dissatisfaction from the students, the physics department came to me.At that time, I was just a young professor with very low qualifications. I didn't know how to refuse, so I agreed. They put me on a passenger plane with a small airline.The company name was Robinson Airlines (later renamed Mohawk Airlines (MohawkAirlines)).I remember the first time I flew to Buffalo, the pilot was Mr. Robinson himself.He knocked the ice off the wings first and we took off.

All in all, I don't like being in Buffalo every Thursday night at all. In addition to basic expenses, the school paid me $35.I grew up during the Great Depression, so I planned to save money, which was a lot of money at the time. But it dawned on me: The function of that $35 was to make the trip to Buffalo more attractive, and the right way to do it was to spend it.So I decided that every time I fly to Buffalo to teach, I'll spend that $35, enjoy it, and see if that makes the trip more worthwhile. I am an inexperienced person, and I don’t know where to start spending money, so I asked a taxi driver to show me the entertainment venues in Buffalo. I took this taxi driver’s car at the airport, remember His name is Ma Kusu, and he drives taxi No. 169.He was so helpful that I specifically asked for a ride in his car every Thursday night when I flew into the Buffalo airport.

That day, before I officially gave the first class, I asked Marcuso: "Where can I find a very lively and interesting bar?" I thought that all bars are lively and interesting places. "Araby's House," he said, "it's a lively place and you meet a lot of people. I'll take you there after your get out of class." Marcuso picked me up after class, and on the way to Araby I said: "I always order a drink when I get there. What good whiskey do they have?" "You just order black and white whiskey, plus a glass of water." He taught me.

The Araby Restaurant is quite an elegant place, full of people and very lively.The ladies there are all in fur coats, everyone is friendly, and the phone keeps ringing. I went to the bar and ordered a glass of black and white whiskey and a glass of water. The bartender was very friendly and quickly found a beautiful lady to sit next to me and introduced us to each other.I bought her a glass of wine and I liked the place so much I decided to come back next week. So every Thursday night, when I arrived in Buffalo, I would take taxi No. 169 to give lectures, and then go to Arabi Bistro to order black and white whiskey and a glass of water.After a few weeks, whenever I set foot in Araby, there was a glass of black and white whiskey and a glass of water waiting for me. "Your wine, sir."

This became how the bartender greeted me. Usually I pick up the wine, like I see it in the movies, and drink it in one gulp, to let other people know that I'm a real tough guy.After sitting idle for 20 seconds, I drink the water again.After getting used to it, gradually I didn't even need to drink water. The bartender never leaves the chair next to me empty and introduces me to some beautiful women every time.But when the bar closed, they all left on their own.I think it's probably because by then, I was very drunk. Once, when it was time to close in Araby, my lady companion for the night suggested that we go to another place where she knew a lot of people.The place was on the second floor of a building that, from the outside, hardly seemed to be a bar.Buffalo stipulates that all bars must close at two o'clock, after which everyone is attracted to the second floor here, and everything continues-of course, this is illegal.

I've often wondered, is there any way to stay in a bar and watch the action without getting drunk?One night, I noticed a regular guy come up to the bar and order a glass of milk.His problem was known: he had a stomach ulcer—poor thing.So I came up with a good idea. The next time I was at Araby's, the bartender asked, "Is it the same as usual, sir?" "No, give me a Coke, just a Coke," I said, with a look of frustration on my face. Others gathered around to comfort me: "Yeah, I couldn't drink alcohol three weeks ago." "It's really bitter, Feynman, it's really bitter." Another said.

They all have a lot of respect for me.I couldn't drink but still had the guts to walk into a bar and, against all temptations, just order a Coke.All this, of course, because I was going to see my friend.I pretended to be like that for a whole month, how mean it was! Once I went into the bathroom and there was a drunk guy taking a piss.He said to me in a vile voice, "I hate your face so much, I want to put your face in your head." I was so scared that my face turned green.But I replied in the same vile voice, "Get out of my way or I'll piss on you!" He said something more, and the situation was getting closer and closer to the edge of a fight.But I have never fought with anyone, I don't know how to fight, and I am even more afraid of getting hurt.I only thought of one thing, so I hurriedly stood away from the wall, otherwise if I was hit, my back would hit the wall again, which would be the same as being hit twice.

Suddenly I felt a strange sound in my eyes, it didn't hurt very much, and before I had time to think about it, I punched the guy back.I really find it very interesting. It turns out that I can react without thinking, and all the mechanisms in my body know what to do. "Okay, we're tied one to one," I said, "Do you still want to fight?" He stepped back, and left.If he's as stupid as I am, maybe we'll kill each other! I ran to wash it, my hands were shaking, my gums were bleeding - my gums are always fragile, and my eyes hurt like hell.After calming down, I swaggered back to the bartender and said, "Black and white, add water." I thought it would calm me down.

I didn't notice that the guy who had just punched me in the toilet was talking to three people on the other side of the bar.After a while, those three tall and thick guys came running around me and said condescendingly and menacingly, "What do you mean? Why are you fighting with our friends?" I'm so stupid that I don't even know I'm being threatened. I only know right from wrong.I also got angry and confronted them tit for tat: "Why don't you ask your friends who started the trouble?" Those big men didn't expect that they couldn't scare me, they all froze on the spot, then turned and walked away.

After a while, one of the guys came up to me and said, "You're right, Curry used to get into fights and tell us to come out and fix it for him." "Of course I'm right!" I said.The guy sat next to me, and Curry and his two friends ran over and sat across from me, two seats away.Currie babbled about my eyes being ugly, and I retorted that he wasn't much better now. I kept on talking because I thought that's what men in bars talk like.The situation was getting tense, and everyone in the bar was worried about what was going to happen.The bartender yells, "No fighting here, buddy! Calm down!"

Curry hissed through his teeth and said, "It's okay, I'll fix him after he gets out." Suddenly, a genius appeared in the bar.This guy came up to me and said, "Hey, Danny! When did you come into town? How's it going?" Then he said to Currie, "Hey, Paul! Let me introduce my good friend Danny. I think you'll hit it off very well. Why don't you shake hands?" We shook hands.Currie said, "Well, nice to meet you." The big genius leaned over and said softly, "Slip away!" "But they said they would..." "Let's go!" he said. I grabbed my coat in one hand and hurried away.All the way I stayed close to the walls of buildings in case they came after me.But there was no sign of anyone, so I went back to the hotel safely.It just so happened that this evening was the last class I taught, and for the next few years, I never went back to the Arabian Restaurant. (I went back there once, about 10 years later, and the Araby was a different place. It was no longer elegant and shiny, but dirty and rundown, filled with people of the same rank. The bartender had long since changed, and I told him Talk about the old days. "Oh, yes!" he said, "the people who came here back then were bettors and their girlfriends." I finally understood why those people were so friendly and decent back then, and I also understood why the phone always rang. non-stop. ) After waking up the next day, I looked in the mirror and found that the eye that had been hit had turned black and swollen!When I got back to Iseka that day, I took some documents and went to the dean’s office. A professor from the philosophy department saw my black eye sockets and shouted: “Oh! Mr. Feynman! You can’t be as simple as hitting the door Bar?" "Of course not," I said. "I got into a fight in the men's room of a bar in Buffalo." "Hahaha!" The most troublesome thing is that I have to go to class as usual.I walked into the classroom and looked down at my notes.When I was ready to start the lecture, I looked up, looked them straight in the face, and said my opening sentence before the lecture-but this time the tone was more aggressive than before: "What's the problem?"