A mystery of a man who I couldn't stop watching during class

It was grotesque and remains unsolved to this day.

In my senior year of college, we had a guy come in and take our thesis class with us for a semester. I don’t know what this is called, but sometimes I come across articles that celebrities sometimes do this- seemingly show up at a school and take a single class because they can¹. Now, this particular guy wasn’t a celebrity per se, but he was connected with some and was already well known for creating several music videos. He was (allegedly) responsible for getting Devandra Banhart to come to our school for a private concert even, so there was that.

We’ll call him Declan.

None of us really knew why he started attending. He was already a paid director and hipster extraordinaire. And if he was gonna take a class, why the thesis one? Sometimes we’d watch and dissect animations, a lot of indies from the National Film Board of Canada and one time the What’s Opera, Doc episode of Loony Tunes. But it was mostly sitting there and showing our progress of our senior projects (an animated short), more of a time where the professors were making sure we were doing the work, like an accountability thing over critiques.

We all agree this episode is a goddamn masterpiece, right?

Declan pulled footage from one of his music videos and showed us during his first week- it was mostly live action, but we were excited because it was real work in progress. Behind the scenes! Professional industry quality! And then the next week… he showed the same exact thing but talked about it as if we’ve never seen it. I can’t remember if he showed anything else, to be honest.

He was pretty quiet, and mostly stuck to himself (except for maybe when he decided my Japanese friend was one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen and whipped out a DSLR (pre smart phone era), and decided to take a bunch of photographs of her and it was awkward for everybody but him). But as the weeks dragged on, aside from his continuous recycled work, we all slowly started realizing something:

1. He liked to chew dip and

2. No one has ever seen him spit it out.

It all started when we noticed him pull his little tin of chewing tobacco and the paper. There were three long working tables that were pushed together to create a U-shape, so we can all see each other and the projector clearly. Which gave us all equal visual access to his process.

First he’d take out that square of paper and jam his fingers into the tin, pull out a tiny amount and place it in the center of the paper. He would add a little bit more or take some out- often tilting his head to try to gauge the correct amount. And then he’d fold it up in a very specific and particular way, as one would with origami, until it became a little rectangular packet with sharp creases- a perfect little pillow. And then with one hand he’d tug at the edge of his bottom lip out and with the other hand carefully tuck the packet into his cheek next to his back molars. It was somehow both very discreet while also being super distracting.

There were times when we would move as a group to see people’s work on the computers on one side of the room, so we were never sitting in the same spots for long. And class often went for several hours, give or take. We would start at the tables though, which is when I would also watch Declan prep his first dose, and then after we’ve moved and we’re perched on the tables or on chairs on the other side of the room halfway through class, I’d notice him prepare the second.

Which was when I realized he never spit out the first one.

Because you’re supposed to do that, right? I don’t know anything about this- not even the correct slang terms, but I remember leaning against one of my friends to ask in a whisper.

“What?” He asked, not bothering to keep his voice down. He turned to look at me. “He’s gotta, no way.”

We watched Declan like hawks for the rest of class. He wouldn’t be chewing it the entire time, but every once in a while he would be, as if he was shifting it around in his mouth before pocketing it back into his cheek to suck on it some more. He didn’t have a drink on him, which I noted because I’ve heard of kids in my high school who would surreptitiously pretend to drink out of a can of soda only to be using it as their dip receptacle. He never really got up from his seat either. It was quite the conundrum.

I was fine to let this subject die, but my innate curiosity kept me from letting it go completely. Especially now that other people wanted to know as well. We’d arrange ourselves so that we stood slightly behind him, so it’d be easy to glance over to monitor the situation. He continued to do his two rounds of dip per class, though sometimes he would have a beverage on him. But most of the times he didn’t. We’d all be sitting there watching him, as he placidly chewed the same way a cow chewed cud until enough time passed where it dissolved, if that’s possible.

Maybe it got better the more he chewed it, like the opposite of gum.

Maybe he accumulated it into his cheeks and waited until he got home, like a small rodent.

Even if Declan was as adorable as a squirrel, it would still be inexcusable and remarkably gross.

But he seemed to be consuming the chewing tobacco, with no proof otherwise.

Eventually we all moved on as our work ramped up, and at some point he simply stopped attending and receded from our memories. I’m still not sure what he got out of that class (except for some photos or our polite Japanese beauty), but the mystery of if he ever spit out his dip or not plagues me from time to time.

I bet he vapes now.

1. I feel like James Franco did this a lot, collecting courses like Pokemon.