Character Sketch One: Boring Fucking Teacher Man

I met him at school, that boring fucking teacher man. He wore an old tweed jacket and wore his beard like a lumberjack might, scattered and with hairs looking like daddy longlegs’ legs. A mullet, why the hell would he keep his hair in that kind of discord? He bared a hairline that could consciously be called a receding hairline, but he was not bald. It long since quit growing to where it was now just perpetually there, as if to pronounce to the world, “my fucking genes fought a war with baldness, and won”. He was grey in every possible way; even his skin resembled that of an elephant. He wasn’t a fat man but wore the guy of a man of many years, perhaps in his late sixties or early seventies. He sported a pair of spectacles that seemed to say, “I know a lot, don’t fuck with me”. He seemed to always carry a coffee mug with him, whether or not it was actually coffee, I could not tell you for certain. His voice seemed frail but not devoid of life. He always lugged his satchel around with him, no doubt carrying his papers which he would consider his life, like my own father.