Marvin Lweis: the Phantom Menace

During my sophomore year at Rice, I was haunted by an apparition. His name was Marvin Lewis. He was not another student. He was simply a ghost in the machine. Unfortunately, the machine in question resided within the Office of Financial Aid. Due to an Office Space-worthy glitch, all of my loan money was earmarked for a Marvin Lewis, a person who, if he existed at all, certainly wasn't enrolled at the university. It took a great deal of bureaucratic gymnastics to convince the accounting gurus that Marvin was just a figment of their imagination and that Marvin's money rightfully belonged to me. Thankfully, the problem got sorted out before I had to give up a kidney to pay for the fall semester but to this day I remain wary of Marvin's shadowy avarice.

A new non-existent archrival emerged yesterday. I received a borderline hysterical message from the residency office asking why I hadn't yet applied for my Texas physician-in-training permit. Didn't I know that I couldn't start working in the hospitals next week if I didn't have proper certification from the state? I called them back and pleaded ignorance, claiming truthfully that I had been hitherto unaware that I needed to clear this administrative hurdle. They insisted I had been sent the information more than a month ago. I continued to protest my innocence. Finally, remembering my past struggles with mistaken identity, I inquired as to what name they had used to process my paperwork, and the problem became clear. All the necessary information was being routed to one Mark Lweis. Somewhere, Marvin is laughing.