Taylor Hassa
Layout Editor
It came to my attention this week that my professors actually go shopping like the rest of the human population. I don’t know why this has never occurred to me before, but for some reason, I have always just assumed that they were born with a closet full of work clothes.
Four years of fashion columns and not one covered the fashion sense of the professors here at Springfield College. Well, not until today, that is.
It was this past Monday, you know our-should-have-been snow day, that I actually took note of what one of my professors was wearing. He came into class in a really nice sweater, khakis, button down shirt and snow boots. It was a nice and practical look for the day at hand.
My professor greeted the class with an apology after having walked into our 8 a.m. class 10 minutes late. Then, he began his lecture, during which he bent down and tied both his boots. I noticed this because he propped his feet one at a time up on the table to tie them. Needless to say I didn’t hear much of what he was saying.
After his shoes were tied, he took off his jacket, scarf and sweater. Still lecturing, he folded, and then refolded all three of the items he had just taken off. It was all very distracting, at least to me.
When he seemed to be satisfied with his folding job, he began to move around the room as he lectured. I heard the students behind me start laughing and I thought about how rude they were being. But then I saw it, the tag dangling under his left armpit and I too found myself snickering.
I wondered how many of the other students had noticed and tried to compose myself. When I realized the whole class was talking about it, I began to feel sorry for the poor guy. Here he was, teaching this class, thinking he looks all spiffy in his brandy-dandy new shirt, but in reality, we all knew and were laughing at his new shirt.
At one point, he excused himself to get some water. I heard one of the kids behind me say, “If he comes back and the tag is gone he’s a sly guy,” and I couldn’t help but hope that the tag would be gone upon his return.
That hope was lost when he came flying back into the room, tag blowing in the breeze under his armpit. It was at that exact moment I gave up all expectations of learning during that class period and just tried to keep it together as the class was coming to an end.
When the clock struck 8:50, all the students shuffled out of the classroom laughing, myself included. I wondered for the rest of the day if anyone would tell him or if he’d find it all by himself eventually.