“You’re dressed like shit! Take this!” the man screams. He rips off a boy’s Henley shirt, sets it on fire, and then hands him a starched, white shirt. Stiff collar and all.
Oh boy, here we go again. Three times a week this man comes in here — I don’t know how he does it: I can barely wake up for 9:30s — and assaults the students for what they’re wearing. Mostly it’s the professor, but c’mon, cut him some slack, guy. At this point I’ve diagnosed his daily need for a striped shirt as a medical condition. Another disorder of sorts: he gets so much chalk over his hands when he rubs his nose that he becomes a 14th century geisha. And normally I wouldn’t complain because this stuff can be hilarious, but what happens next is heinous. Truly, truly heinous.
I didn’t complain when he set free a baboon in the classroom dressed as one of those law-school pre-professionals, having him chase the professor around the room, ripping off his clothes until he had no choice but to change — embarrassed behind the podium — into a tasteful combination of Traveler Collection Washable (Nice Touch) Merino Wool Sweater Vest and chinos. I didn’t complain when he broke someone’s glasses and gave him a lapel pin resembling sunglass to wear. I didn’t complain when he broke a girl’s high heels — I mean high heels to lecture? At 9:30? On a Monday? Just after the day of our lord? — and gave her a pair of Johnston & Murphy Gibson Bit Loafers. I didn’t complain when he hated a Postdoc’s pants so much that he removed them and made him wear a pocket square as a loincloth. No – I didn’t complain then.
But today I had to speak up when from across the room he complained about how my contacts fit in my eyes. Ridiculous. And then javelined a tie clip across the room and I lost the function of my right eye. Blood: everywhere. Optic nerve: everywhere. Jaws: on the floor.
All I can say for myself is this: the formal complaint to Persis I’m drafting could kill a man. All we can give thanks for is the fact that Salt n Straw is right next to JoS. A. Banks on University Ave. – God knows the therapeutic efficacy of Lavender ice cream
