On the morning of the Inevitable Event, one hundred and eighty adolescents––the early comers, twitching like feral cats at the long mica tables of the cafeteria, heads bowed to handhelds––stiffened in synchrony, reflexively, like an orchestra tensing to the lift of a conductor's baton.
The esteemed American novelist, Greg Ivanovski, arrived via the New Canaan branch on a Wednesday morning. By lunchtime, the rumble of loafers and wedge heels had the walnut paneling of the dining hall chattering and the Louis IX chandeliers rocking on their chains. Where had this swarm been only moments ago? Huddled in sleep behind the lancet arches? The cafeteria staff jostled the thrumming scholars into manageable lines, but finally had to impose the fire safety limit, with one particularly tragic result—Irish playwright Niall Glenn was forced to stand swaying from foot to foot in the outer hall for twelve full minutes before being allowed inside. Greg Ivanovski did not attend the lunch.