Sitting next to Spider-Man isn’t that cool after all.

I’m trying to focus on economics right now, but all I can think about is how sweaty the Spider-Man next to me is. Not glowing, not perspiring, but drenching himself in spider sweat.

When I was a boy, I could only dream of one day sitting next to Spider-Man in class. I had it all worked out: I’d ask him for help with the homework and he’d reveal his secret identity. Maybe we could get married, but that depends on society more than Spider-Man (because I think he’d say yes).

But the one thing that was definitely, definitely NOT in my boyhood fantasy of meeting Spider-Man was a glandular disorder.

Now I don’t even want to meet him, frankly. I can’t even be sure he is the real Spider-Man anymore.

For one thing, those muscles don’t look exactly realistic, especially since one bulge on his left arm has a little bit of cotton foam spewing out. I guess that could be webbing. Maybe.

I don’t remember Spider-Man’s converse sneakers ever peeking out from under his boots either.

Also – and maybe I’m wrong on this – but I didn’t think Spider-Man wore his costume to class. And if he did, why would he take his mask off as well? Spidey, you’re ruining it for everyone.

It’s just – well, I feel like if it were any day but Halloween I could trust this as being real. But I’ve been wrong before.

Last Halloween I remember being at a party and badly cutting my finger. There were at least three very lovely nurses at that party (who were definitely certified because they wore heels and fishnets like real nurses do), but not one offered any help.

Plus, it didn’t help that my friend Tony was acting really inappropriate around the medical officials. Typical Tony, we all said.

But it ended up that only a strange cat-person was able to help my injured finger, which blew my mind because I was previously unaware of any cat-people anywhere.

Needless to say, my finger was repaired and I was able to jump back into the party and participate in a well-choreographed monster mash.

Well, I’ve made up my mind. As soon as this class is over, I am going to march over to Spider-Man and I’m going to ask him! I will ask him why he is so badly out of shape. I will ask him when he grew such an uncouth goatee.

I will ask him why he tried to bite his fingernails through the costume. You’re supposed to be smarter than that, Spidey.

I hope I don’t offend him, though. There’s still a good chance I’m sitting next to the honest-to-goodness superhero.

Still, why would Spider-Man look like such a schlub?

I guess the only times I’ve seen Spider-Man previously were in comics and movies. Maybe those aren’t terribly reliable.

Maybe this is what Spider-Man really looks like when he’s not being photoshopped into some twisted body shape that the media keeps pushing on us.

It doesn’t make it any less disappointing, though.