“The polo shirts and khaki pants make you look like a snob,” he continues. It takes me an embarrassing amount of time to realize he’s talking about me. “You look like the kind of guy whose parents own a vacation home, and got you into school by donating money. The kind of guy who drives a fancy car and calls it his baby. You look like you’re trying to show how much better you are than the rest of us by dressing like that. You look, in short, like a douchebag.” I bite my tongue. Probably best not to tell him I drive a BMW.
