Word: sweatshirted
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...pimply, shaggy, gawky, not the hunkiest guy in a groovin' dance club in Kyoto called Isn't It? But Takeo's got something other guys don't?he knows how to move?and he's putting those moves to work. Standing on a raised platform in a red sweatshirt adorned with nonsensical English, Takeo punches his arms out in a series of semaphoric gestures. The song changes: he does the same, but with a different set of arm movements. The crowd is watching him, and precisely following his lead. High school girls in hip- huggers gaze up adoringly and Takeo...
...Enjoying the attention a little too much, I realized I needed to leave. As I left I was stopped by Mikey Halliday, who was wearing a Hillary Clinton sweatshirt and begged me to vote for the Democrats. I informed him that if Bush won, Alec Baldwin said he would move to France, which was tempting. Mikey is Australian and couldn't vote, which was what made him so desperate to convince me. "If Bush gets in, there's no way I'm going to become a citizen," he said. I figured Mikey had crossed Bush in some '70s coke deal...
...first incident occurred in the first half, during a kickoff. A Dartmouth student in a "Dartmouth '04" sweatshirt (though sources indicate he may have been an '01) weaved in and out of the Harvard kickoff team, then through the Dartmouth return team. As the crowd looked on, he sprinted past police and security before finally being taken down several minutes later...
...Officer Louis Favreau roams campus on foot, watching carefully. To all but the most intense scrutiny, he appears to be a college student, wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. On nights like tonight, when he's working undercover and everything is okay, he can pass an entire shift without being noticed. But last week, a drug dealer learned the hard way not to sell drugs under the nose of HUPD's plainclothes unit...
...admitted--the answer to constant questions of your newly chosen college usually stops at "Massachusetts" or maybe, if you're brave enough, Boston. If pressed, you mumble Harvard as if you've just mentioned time in your local prison. Once you arrive on campus, it becomes clear that the sweatshirt you bought as a starry-eyed prefrosh will no longer be good for much other than visits home. Basically, we all try to pretend we don't really go to Harvard, in some sort of bizarre modesty or insecurity about what that means about us. Maybe we just...