Maybe. Or maybe not.... *** A man I’d never seen before stood outside my wife’s office in the West Tennessee University Humanities building. He was tall, portly, and had a belligerent expression firmly set on his round face. His beard seemed stretched, like it would’ve been adequate for a normal face but wasn’t thick enough for the man’s jowly visage. He leaned against the wall, texting someone on his phone. The kids in the hall between classes gave him plenty of room. As I reached the Psychology Department door, he put a ham-sized hand on my chest. “Hold up there, hoss. Why don’t you come back some other time?” I looked down at the hand, then up at the man. “I’m sorry?” I said. “No admittance. Private conference going on.” “Really?” I looked down at his hand again. “I’d appreciate it if you’d take your hand off me.” He grinned.
