Hipster Professor

I am finishing classwork this semester. OK, you caught me. I am just delaying having to write the damn thing up. Despite my desire to quit a long time ago even after they handed my a fellowship with the greatest of ease, I go back day after day after day...

Digressing from my complaint session, a hipster teaches one of the classes. He arrived the first day of class with a dress shirt and an Armstrong Elementary t-shirt over it, ripped jeans hanging at his knees, yellow plastic flip flops that have seen much better days, and matching yellow sunglasses. The second class a fresh mohawk joined the look along with purple high top Pumas. The thoughts that ran through my head on Day One.

Then I received a reality check when he's all:

"UGrad Hopkins. Masters. Hopkins. Fullbright in Norway. PhD. PENN. Post Doctorate. PENN."

Fuck.

No. Not Jewish!

I love him. I totally do. I think because I am the only straight woman in the course other than the Twinkie physician in training who is esoteric and stares at me for a good ten minutes during each class. (Yeah, nobody knows why. She is an enigma wrapped in a riddle.) Also, I constantly have something to say about feminist thought and why drag queens, intersex, etc. are undesirable to some feminists. (An interesting discussion for another time.) However our love-love relationship was sealed when I was the first to confirm upon request, by him, what his sexual preference was. (Don't worry. The course explores patients rights around sex changes and provides a framework for hospital attorneys and ethics committees.It was for illustrative purposes and I was the sole candidate to pass the ethics yardstick)

He is a humorous guy. I am one of the few who thrives on his humor, I sense. For example:

Professor: Does anyone know what the name for that is?

Class silence.

Silence is deafing.

Waiting.

Professor: It's a technical term.

Class still silent.

Can hear pin drop.

Professor: Yes, it's pissing match.

Maybe you had to be there...