Incubator of Creativity Anonymous

Walking towards Asia House from south campus with Joe, my host whom I had met about an hour prior, we talked about the little idiosyncrasies of Oberlin as we prepared to eat the co-op made pizza. There was an indie rock-jazz fusion band performing in the courtyard, where a sizeable crowd was forming. A bicyclist darted towards us out of nowhere, barely missed us, and continued through the crowd. The bicyclist wore black combat boots, black stockings with a few holes in the thigh, a black thermal shirt under a patent-leather overcoat that hung just above the back wheel, black eyeliner and solid black lipstick applied a half-inch around his lips. Joe and I laughed that he reminded us of a character from “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” then took a seat with some locally made apple cider and surprisingly tasty pineapple onion pizza and watched the band. The same bicyclist, now on foot, approached the jug of apple cider next to where Joe and I were seated. He looked around a moment for a cup, gave up, and carefully tried to pour cider into his mouth without touching his black lips to the brim. The cider spurted out of the jug too fast and splashed against his mouth, smearing his lipstick down his chin, causing him to gag on the...