Stranger than Fiction

After my first class I make my way to the men’s room. As I walk in and am heading towards the far urinal I see one of my students, Hardaway, squatting (most places there are not actual toilets, just troughs) and going number two with the stall door wide open while smoking a cigarette. I snap my head back on plane and continue my saunter with disturbing detachment. This is not the first time this has happened. It must be 9:00am Wednesday morning.TMI? Maybe. Truthful? Brutally.