[danneu]

Oh, man. The eye wash tower. An eye washer and a shower rolled into one pipe that extended from the floor to the ceiling. The thought of ever working with a substance that could validate suburbia's property tax spent on those things was the subject of every kid's daydreams during science class. Or that poster of that girl with the seeing stick that said something like "Karen didn't wear her goggles. But now she doesn't need to anymore." Gee, Karen, I remember muttering, I'd at least like a shot at danger.

Six bunsen burners, test tube racks built into the three sinks, and an eye wash tower in each science classroom of my youth. Yet the only thing I remember doing in four years of highschool is an over-chaperoned field trip with drug dogs and watching baking soda, vinegar, and water expand a balloon (goggles on, of course).

Might as well teach class in a Willy Wonka factory but feed us celery all four years.