Brown leafed vertigo

This is post number two with a song lyrics title. Any guessers on the song? Hint: it's topical. Yesterday I got a package in the mail. "Oh no!" thought I, "My time has come and Sock Wars has claimed another victim." But, luckily, the package contained the socks started by my last kill (the blogless Sarah) and now I have a new, relatively mindless knitting project for House tonight. I've killed two knitters! I'm one of the 127 still alive out of 722 total assassins, and I'm hoping that my killer is knitting slowly. Three is a respectable number of victims. And now, a scary story. Grad students don't have offices at my university (well, we do, but they're in the football stadium and incredibly inconvenient for both us and our students), so most of us hold our office hours in the library's coffee shop. It's easy for our students to find and enables those of us who have office hours at the same time to get three hours of socializing in every week. There's a guy -- I'm sure very university has this guy -- who has attached himself to us, but let me be clear from the beginning: we don't know him. At all. He's in his 40s, smells awful, dresses shabbily, is overly friendly in a creepy way, and always carries books. We think he must be a philosophy or history grad student. If there is any free seat at our table (and sometimes when there aren't any -- he's not afraid to pull up a chair), he'll plop himself down and talk loudly to himself for half an hour or so. He's a little strange. Today he walked in to the coffee shop and said hi to a friend of mine who wore glittery devil horns to her office hours. He told her he was wearing a costume under his clothes and she laughingly told him he should go change. You can see where this is going. He left. And we panicked. Would he come back naked? Wearing a sandwich board with "THE END IS NIGH" written on it? Dressed as school girl? A hog caller? He returned, holding his large backpack in front of him and for a moment, each of us thought he was naked. And we each located the nearest exit. Then he dropped the backpack and revealed that he was dressed as a bargin-basement Wonder Woman. I didn't look directly at the costume, but apparently he was wearing blue lycra short-shorts, a red bustier, and a sagging gold belt. I think we exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before he wandered off, hopefully heading out to fight crime or shower. I think the only appropriate way to react to this is the way the guy sitting nearest to Wonder Woman did: look bewildered and repeat "What the FUCK was that?" once every three minutes for the next 10-15. Happy Halloween guys.