The professor usually travels incognito.
What I mean is: usually, I’m not in my white suit.
It sorta looks like this:
Artwork by Alastair Savage
Yes, so that’s that. Usually, I’m dressed in my battle uniform, which is quite simple: T-Shirt, cargo pants, and a hoody. And maybe a hat depending on the day. (Always have throwing knives concealed as well. Did you know the professor was deadly with them? I didn’t either.)
So, I was incognito one day, when something scary happened.
I was on my way to the park (which isn’t too far from the professorish abode) when a car stopped. (I was walking along the road, see.)
It was a fancy car. A woman was driving and there was a fellow in the passenger seat. They were both dressed up. I mean, gown and bowtie and all that jazz.
The lady—I suppose I should call her—put down her window.
“Excuse me,” she said, “would you happen to know where 501 Northcutt is?”
And I did know. Remember, I’ve a great sense of direction.
“Sure thing,” I said. “This is how you get there: continue on this road till you reach a stop sign. Turn left there. Then go down that hill and make a quick right onto a side street that everyone always misses. Stay on there for about a minute (give or take a few seconds and some) then turn right, then a quick left. At that point, you’ll be at an intersection. Turn left. Now you’re on Northcutt. Continue on until you see a sign that says ‘no trespassing.’ Turn up that driveway.”
The reason the sign is there, you must understand, is because it’s private property. Very wealthy up there, I hear.
The lady couldn’t have looked more confused.
Now the fellow said something: “Look here, chap, that didn’t make much sense at all. Now…where is it?!”
“Are you late?” I asked.
“Horribly!!!” the woman said. She was getting angry, and I was enjoying this.
“Hurry up with the directions,” the fellow said.
“Well…don’t you have a GPS?” I asked.
The lady scoffed. “GPS’s are for the drivers to use.”
The professor was confused the sudden. “Aren’t you a driver?”
You would have thought I said something rather nasty.
“Our driver, you should know,” she began angrily, “called off sick at the last moment!”
Then she said it: “Get in the car. You’ll give us directions on the way.”
The professor opened the back door, and climbed in.
Now you should know a few things:
One, it’s okay to get into a stranger’s car if you’re more powerful than the strangers. Two, I usually don’t take commands like that, but this was too fun to pass up.
We continued on for some, and I gave the directions like a good fellow.
Soon, we were there. Up the long driveway and in front of a mansion.
Lots of fellows and ladies were there, going into the house.
It was a party.
A fancy one.
The lady turned around and smiled. “I insist you come in with us as our guest.”
We were on time.
The fellow nodded. “Yes, you must. We were permitted to have three in our party.”
I was underdressed, but it was going to be fun, I thought.