When I was eleven I was traumatized by this painting, Balthus' The Street. Useless to speculate why. I'm only partly reassured to learn that the chef isn't meant to be human, possibly because I don't believe the commentator who says so.
In any case, I was bicycling by Central Tech this afternoon, with difficulty, because there were crowds of students all over the sidewalks and in the street, rather more than the usual letting out of classes. Then I saw a bunch of guys on the corner of Lippincott, all in white and wearing chef's hats- great high things that covered all their hair, looking totally out of place among the grunge pants and baseball caps that everyone else had on. Most of them were plump and smooth-faced and looked young, and they were smiling all over their young plump smooth faces. Even for a barbecue fundraiser or whatever it was, it was *weird*. But then I turned onto Lennox and there were even more kids there, just standing around, and I realized-- fire alarm or fire drill or something, that had interrupted the cooking courses as well as shop and plumbing.