In which Piers looks for an escape hatch

Yesterday afternoon, after doing a guest 'lecture' on The Tempest, I was sitting in my office recovering, minding my own business, when a large man shows up at my door. He asks to come in, says he wants to talk with me and get my opinion about something. Warily, I invite him in. He proceeds to take out a notebook and show me a 'poem' he wrote about communication. I make out over the course of our conversation that he's a returning student, probably at least 10-15 years older than myself, and that he's got a lot of complaints about "kids these days." After trying to offer what constructive criticism I could on the poem, I attempted to engage the communication issue by relating how many of my students lack the knowledge of the Bible and Classical writers that my material presupposes. All of a sudden, he breaks into Hamlet's soliloquy from 1.2:

O that this too too sullied flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew,
Or that the Everlasting had not fixed
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter. O God, God,
How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable
Seem to me all the uses of this world!

...and so on. He keeps going, and going, even using a faux accent, and then regales me with the story of how he learned it back when he was in college in the 70's or whenever it was.

(Blackbuzzard and Hambone, you can imagine the expression on my face at this point.)

Now he wants to visit my Shakespeare class and do a performance. Time expands sometimes, and usually at the wrong times. I don't know exactly how long he was sitting in my office, but it felt like half a day.