Thirteen Times




Taken from “Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!” Adventures of a Curious Character by Richard Phillips Feynman as told to Ralph Leighton edited by Edward Hutchings

One time a science teacher from the local city college came around and asked me if I’d give a talk there. He offered me fifty dollars, but I told him I wasn’t worried about the money. “That’s the city college, right?”
“Yes.”
I thought about how much paperwork I usually had to get involved with when I deal with the government, so I laughed and said, “I’ll be glad to give the talk. There’s only one condition on the whole thing”—I pulled a number out of a hat and continued—”that I don’t have to sign my name more than thirteen times, and that includes the check!”
The guy laughs too. “Thirteen times! No problem.”
So then it starts. First I have to sign something that says I’m loyal to the government, or else I can’t talk in the city college. And I have to sign it double, OK? Then I have to sign some kind of release to the city—I can’t remember what. Pretty soon the numbers are beginning to climb up.
I have to sign that I was suitably employed as a professor—to ensure, of course, since it’s a city thing, that no jerk at the other end was hiring his wife or a friend to come and not even give the lecture. There were all kinds of things to ensure, and the signatures kept mounting.
Well, the guy who started out laughing got pretty nervous, but we just made it. I signed exactly twelve times. There was one more left for the check, so I went ahead and gave the talk.
A few days later the guy came around to give me the check, and he was really sweating. He couldn’t give me the money unless I signed a form saying I really gave the talk.
I said, “If I sign the form, I can’t sign the check. But you were there. You heard the talk; why don’t you sign it?”
“Look,” he said, “Isn’t this whole thing rather silly?”
“No. It was an arrangement we made in the beginning. We didn’t think it was really going to get to thirteen, but we agreed on it, and I think we should stick to it to the end.”
He said, “I’ve been working very hard, calling all around. I’ve been trying everything, and they tell me it’s impossible. You simply can’t get your money unless you sign the form.”
“It’s OK,” I said. “I’ve only signed twelve times, and I gave the talk. I don’t need the money.”
“But I have to do this to you.”
“It’s all right. We made a deal; don’t worry.”
The next day he called me up. “They can’t not give you the money! They’ve already earmarked the money and they’ve got it set aside, so they have to give it to you!”
“OK, if they have to give me the money, let them give me the money.”
“But you have to sign the form.”
“I won’t sign the form!”
They were stuck. There was no miscellaneous pot which was for money that this man deserves but won’t sign for.
Finally, it got straightened out. It took a long time, and it was very complicated—but I used the thirteenth signature to cash my check.