The Political Science Department is putting on a “singing panel discussion” in the Grand Theater. Many famous professors are there, all of them pretending to be disabled. The Brooklyn College delegation have all had their heads shaved specially.
I watch the performance from a hole in the ceiling. I have never seen so much confetti, or so many acrobats. The spectacle is extraordinary. The panelists become lost in piles of confetti and acrobats.
I retreat to the women’s dressing room, to recover a shoe I left there during a sexual encounter. I am forced to hide among coats after the semester begins unexpectedly.