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A Typing Tale
I would type much faster than 40 words per minute if I used more than four fingers.
Alas, back in the day when I was taking typing in school on an old manual Royal typewriter (anyone remember those clunky beasts), I thought it would be clever to move the keys around and screw up students in the classes after me.
I got bumped out of typing class once my hilarious hijinks were uncovered. Apparently the Vice-Principal was unamused, because I was banished to a second period of Shop class. I'm still pretty handy with power tools.
My next big typing test came when I joined the Navy. I did really well on the tests and seemed destined for some good training. I was feeling pretty good about myself until those of us selected for the program were told that we would have to type 40 words per minute by the end of the week or else we would be spending our four years of service scraping paint off of aircraft carrier decks.
This made me highly motivated. I knew I had no time to learn to type properly, so I memorized the page to be typed, looked at the keys and learned how to type 40 WPM with four fingers (index fingers and middle fingers). I think I came in at a blazing 41 WPM.
That's it. I passed and my typing skills have remained forever the same, except for the thumb on the space bar trick, and holding the shift key with my pinky.
Here is my attempt at typing using the proper style and not peeking at the keys:
the red foc jumnp[s ovet her frnvr
The moral of the story? The red fox would have never jumped over the fence if I didn't learn to improvise. Inefficient? Yes, but it gets the job done.
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