The Power Suit and Cut

It's been awhile since I wore my black suit. However, since there was an open house tonight for the graduate program that I will teach a course in, I thought I should gussy it up a bit more than usual. Coincidentally, I also had an appointment for a hair cut in the morning. I thought that I'd look extra respectable.

It never works that way, does it? The hairdresser cut my hair too short and put so much goop in it that I could gagged on the fragrant smell of my hair as I walked down the street, even several hours later. No one should be able to smell themselves when they are outside in NYC unless something is very wrong. (I think she gooped it up extra hard because I told her that I never use "product." Maybe she thought she could put a month's worth on all at once and it would last.) Worse, the style started off as a sassy pixie-ish look but by the end of the day was a smelly, hard flat blob. I think you see where this is going.

Anyway, I put on my black suit and decided that Pat Robertson could've used my photo to illustrate his brilliant line that feminism "encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism, and become lesbians." I'm sure the people at Jesus is Savior (grammatically incorrect tag line: "Feminism is Evil! Beware of the feminists, many are lesbians!") would agree. I even put on a pink shirt to try and "soften" my look so that men wouldn't protect their crotches on impulse as I walked by. It didn't help.

Unfortunately, my severe new look did not stop people from asking stupid and inane questions during the event. One women wanted to know how the Children's Program Administrative Credential differed from the Child Development Associate (CDA) credential. The program director explained that the CDA is for teachers, but this program is for directors who manage programs.

"Well, how is that different than the CDA?" the audience member asked in a belligerent tone.

"This program is for leaders of organizations or those who will be leaders. The CDA is for teachers in the classroom," the director patiently replied.

"Yeah? And what is the difference?" Audience Bitch sneered, as if the director was an idiot. She then proceeded to talk to the woman sitting behind her for the rest of the presentation. I wanted to go over there and tell her to get the fuck out. You know that this cuntface is going to wind up in my class.

But I digress. Of course, my hair will grow back by the time I assume my Adjunct Lecturer (!) position in a month, so perhaps my students will think I am a twelve year old boy in a power suit instead of a seething, corporate, man-hating killer.