As a timid and relatively diffident freshman, I’ve not yet taken the time to get to know my professors nor have I been fed any embellished gossip that would lead me to be prepared for the cute, grotesque, or uncontrollable quirks or flaws that seem to flesh out so many professors in the classrooms here at Northeastern University (or so I have been told).
However, being rather observant, I did take notice of one of my own professors, a stern, nervous, shy man who barely lets a smile creep across his face and who seems to care more about being as loud as possible as he stabs at the chalkboard, alternating hand writing styles between swooping elementary cursive and assertive bold scratch, than the eager learners sitting before him. Anyway, I realized that he wore the same exact drab outfit two days in a row: Army green pants of a soft yet stiff material and a polyester shirt with a flimsy collar and a khaki/green/crimson stripe configuration. I’ll let the fact that he wore the same pair of shoes fly but, correct me if I’m wrong, wouldn’t that imply that he also wore the same pair of socks two days in a row? Which brings me to my next point and the true reason why I wrote this. I wrote this because, taking note of this creature’s approach to wardrobe and personal hygiene, and thus overall self-respect, I asked myself a question: What sort of excuse could a grown man, most likely with above average intelligence, possibly have for not changing his clothes over a 24 hour period, at the least?
Rather than simply criticize this man, I decided instead to assume that maybe things aren’t going so well for him, after all, here’s a guy droning on for over an hour about linear equations to a bunch of arrogant, unappreciative freshmen, who don’t realize that the only reason he’s not out somewhere doing Chaos Theory for fun on a napkin with a crayon, is because the mathematically inept freshmen need to be reminded which line with the pointy arrow at the end is the x-axis and which is the y-axis. So for starters, he’s leading an unfulfilling life. Or maybe he’s not doing so great financially and couldn’t quite scrape up the dough to blow on Tide with bleach because, hey, Ramen noodles are only like forty cents a bag and he hasn’t eaten anything but oatmeal for a week, without brown sugar. Or maybe he’s married, but the long hours at the office preparing the lesson for the poor little dullards are causing some tension, some stress. Tension and stress that leads to an exchange of words in the dark kitchen when our dirty mathematician stumbles in at midnight after a long, sullen night sipping on gin and tonic, letting the door slam, waking the baby, irking the wife, leading to a night on the thinly padded couch without getting the chance to change.
In the morning, after he oversleeps, the guilt and depression continues to loom and suddenly a shower, shave and a coffee takes the back seat to feeling sorry for yourself because, sometimes, it’s all we can do to give meaning to our lives. So, you know what, maybe we should give this guy a break. But if his antics go on for too long let’s get him some Old Spice and an industrial size container of Febreeze instead because, well, math sucks enough as it is.
— Brian Wraight is a freshman journalism major.
