The pipette tip rack is the medical lab’s own crude version of the Myers-Briggs personality test. You can learn a lot about a lab tech by how he or she removes tips. Their formations can indicate pet interests or a cry for help. Either way, it’s wise to be attuned to certain signs.
You long to be swept off your feet by a sensitive soul who appreciates your knowledge of antibodies and analytes. Maybe you make bubble letters in the covers of your notebooks or maybe you don’t. You have a rocky relationship with your analyzer, but you’ve trusted it with many of your deepest, darkest secrets.
A dozen or so rows and columns of tips make for a fairly challenging canvas, but you’ve still managed to create some awesome portraits if you do say so yourself. Your version of “Starry Night” wasn’t too shabby, either. You are the perfect balance of right brain and left. You might need more hobbies though.
Your pipette tip rack never seems to have more than two or three tips remaining. That’s because you are a pipetting machine. While they’d never admit it, your coworkers are in awe of your speed and accuracy and secretly want to be you. However, they have to settle for the privilege of sharing a benchtop with you.
There is no rhyme or reason to your tip removal patterns. There is only chaos. Your habits make more organized techs want to scream. Maybe that’s why you do it. Or maybe you just find comfort in asymmetry. Either way, you can expect every orderly tech to fear you for the loose cannon you are.
This just isn’t right. If the lab manager comes by, you have some explaining to do. You might be able to blame it on an extremely isolated earthquake. Or you could say the rack was like this when you found it. If you’re asked to walk a straight line or recite the alphabet backwards, simply comply and any misunderstanding should be cleared up in due time.