The Mocking

Summary

Spenser reminisces about a statistics professor who, after teaching a single course, reappeared as a pizza delivery person, an encounter that became a recurring joke among Spenser and his friends.

Abstract

Spenser reflects on the irony of his life's routine, mirrored by the cycle of eating pizza, as he recalls a former statistics professor with a pronounced accent and lisp who taught a single course and then disappeared, only to resurface delivering pizza to Spenser and his friends. The professor's unexpected appearance at their door led to laughter and mockery, with the students unaware of his personal circumstances or the indignity he might have felt. Years later, Spenser, now a teacher himself, finds himself pondering the professor's life while eating pizza in his car between classes, contemplating the professor's perspective on his current situation.

Opinions

Spenser's narrative conveys a sense of nostalgia mixed with a newfound empathy for the statistics professor, recognizing the potential hardships the professor might have faced.
The students' initial reaction to the professor's pizza delivery job is one of amusement and derision, highlighting a lack of understanding and empathy for the professor's situation.
The passage suggests a subtle critique of the academic system that may not provide adequate support or job security for contract-based educators.
Spenser's contemplation implies a deeper reflection on life's unpredictable turns and the dignity of labor, regardless of the job's social status.
The author may be drawing a parallel between Spenser's current life and the professor's past, suggesting that life's circumstances can change in unexpected ways, and with that change, comes a shift in perspective.

The Mocking

Photo by Antonina Bukowska

The pizza is slick with day-old cheese sweat. Hot pizza for dinner, cold pizza for lunch, dank pizza for dinner. The gastronomic rhythms of his Tuesday-Wednesday. Two-for-one pizza in the fullest sense of the phrase.

Spenser takes a bite, thinking about the statistics professor from his first year as an undergraduate, the one who had trouble communicating with the massive lecture hall because of a strong South American accent combined with a heavy, wet lisp. Frequent references to “Ssstandahd Deeviathunsss” tended to elicit snickers from the crowd. The professor was working on a contract basis, though of course none of the students knew this at the time or likely would have thought much of it even if they did. He taught just the one course and then vanished.

Until the following spring, when Spenser and a group of buddies ordered pizza — and who should arrive to deliver it but that same statistics professor. Whoever answered the door roared with glee and called everyone over. They all laughed and slapped him on the back and told him how much they hated statistics and what the hell are you doing delivering pizza and we can’t believe you’re here, standing in our doorway, say it, say it, say “Standard Deviations” like you always did. He chuckled along with them, checking his watch and deeply embarrassed, though none of the guys recognized this at the time or likely would have cared much even if they did. After unsuccessful attempts to get the professor to come on in and chug a few with them, they closed the door after he left and then roared again. Beerstained laughter, right from the gut, some of the guys doubled over as if in pain. They laughed about this chance encounter for years whenever anyone would bring it up. That horrible stats prof with the lisp, man, so bad that he had to deliver pizzas, remember when he showed up at our door?

Spenser, sitting in his car in the last row of the D parking lot, the engine off but still radiating heat from the long drive from campus (11am to 3pm, University Writing and Communication) to campus (7pm to 10pm, Introduction to Poetry), mashing sodden pizza against his palate with his tongue, checks his watch and sees the smear of red sauce down the front of his sweater, the stain vaguely parabolic though he might have that wrong, and he wonders, not for the first time, what that statistics professor would say to him, right now, at this moment.

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