Profound

Click, click, click. The constant clacking of keyboards was the only thing that broke the dreary silence.

"I wish he would come in here just to explain something to us."

Then, five minutes later, our professor (the sage-like old man) actually came.

We gave each other that look again, except where I only chuckled slightly in disbelief of the timing, my counterpart clearly had a quick rush of boyish excitement run through him.

Though he merely entered to inquire about the whereabouts of our grad student, he then proceeded to tell us about the pronunciation of Polish words (as he had just made a note of the true pronunciation of our grad student's [Polish] last name). Before we knew it though, he had cited the constructed word "Ghoti," which was intended to be pronounced as "fish."

'G-h' as in 'enough.'
'O' as in 'women.'
'T-i' as in 'nation.'

When he left, we gave each other the look again and then laughed.

"He's just so wise, so... profound," stated my undergrad before continuing his speculations about how he got that way.

I nodded in agreement.

"Now didn't that make coming here today all worth it?"