Caught: The literature professor who doesn't believe in office hours
So I’m walking past the downtown loft district at 2 AM, and who do I see standing on a balcony with a glass of scotch and a stack of papers? Our resident intellectual titan, looking like he just stepped out of a cologne ad. He wasn't grading, though. He was just leaning against the railing, staring down at the street like he was waiting for someone to dare him to jump. I tried to snap a clear photo, but he turned his head at the last second. He definitely saw me. He didn't even look annoyed—just bored.
He's probably just posing for effect. Everything he does is curated.
Reply to Skeptic_99： Maybe, but it works, doesn't it?
Is this the same guy ? My roommate said his seminars are basically psychological warfare disguised as literature analysis.
Reply to DeanFanClub： Accurate.
Wait, 2 AM? He has a lecture at 9 AM tomorrow. How is he even human?
Reply to LitMajor_X： He lives on black coffee and spite, trust me.
The man grades papers like he’s dissecting a crime scene. I'm too scared to ask him for an extension.
I saw his lights on at 4 AM last week too. I don't think he ever sleeps.
Why does he look like he’s waiting for a fight? It’s not even a faculty thing.
I saw him at that obscure bookstore on Saturday, hunting for first editions like his life depended on it. He’s the most intense person I’ve ever met.
Oh, that’s definitely him. I recognize that specific, pretentious loft building. He’s always at the faculty mixers looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else, and here we are.