Reminiscence in a tea house

Another customer, a stranger with white beard and glasses at the tea house, reminds me of K, the elder design professor at art school. I never took any classes with K. Although I majored in graphic design and graduated with a degree, I was enamored of another younger, more hip professor from California, M. M was a very good teacher, so I enrolled in all of his classes.

One afternoon I needed a signature for some administrivia. M was nowhere to be found, so I visited K in his office on the fourth floor.

"So why haven't you taken any of my classes?" K asked after providing his signature.

"I meet all my requirements with M's classes," I said, "and my schedule is tough, you know."

"Perhaps this is true. But you need experience dealing with different types of people. You will work with them, once you graduate."

I beat a hasty apologetic retreat. Now, 19 years later, a chance encounter in a tea house brings back the truth and value of K's words, that I dismissed uncomfortably in my youth.

4-29-96