So I Just Pissed Off Award-Winning Journalist Seymour Hersh Today

If leaving early counts as pissing him off.

In a room of about 20.

While the guy asking the question paused to let me leave.

After my heavy backpack went near his head.

Okay, so Seymour Hersh is a big shot, exposed Abu Ghraib and My Lai, he’s in The New Yorker. He’s big enough to start 40 minutes late in a supposed half and hour meeting with journalismo students, ask for a donut from a member of the audience, then say for people to get on with questions while he adjusts his tie so it’s off-center.

He’s big.

And I like him, think he’s cool, saw him on The Daily Show, wanted to see him. So of course I went. He was supposed to talk from 3 to 4:30, but I had a midterm then, so I figured I could slip away, then write the midterm.

Slipping away proved slippier than I expected.

Now, while I was leaving, getting out of there fast as I could, I thought I saw something on the teacher who had desparately organized this. It was a look of “Dude, what the fuck?” horror.

That was my whole feeling on the midterm, which I think I did pretty well on.

Remember, kids, people notice you.

Did I mention I want to become a journalist?

All of a sudden, “Never work in this town again” comes to mind…