Despite his lack of interest, I had to keep him out and about for awhile. Even the short version of the tour takes some time and, if we returned too soon, Cuthbold would know there had been a problem. I did my best to keep things moving and energetic but Professor Smith-Smythe's visibly growing boredom fought against my cheerfulness.
This came to a head as I led him from the Samson building towards Zeidler. He released a mighty sigh that caused me to turn to him. “I am sorry. I've been on a number of these tours before and the buildings just don't change much. I mean, one classroom looks much like the rest.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” I noted, “we are almost done.”
He grinned. “It does actually, yes.”
Encouraged by this, I added “This is the 'fun' stuff I save for last. This building has the cafeteria, the studios, the bar...”
I was stopped at this point, both in my speech as well as in my pace. This concerned me slightly. Being outside on this hot, humid day was unpleasant and I desired the air conditioning within. “I'm sorry, do I understand you to say that there is a public bar within that building? On campus?”
It wasn't clear to me what his opinion of this statement happened to be. I responded instinctively and truthfully. “This is Wisconsin; we have bars everywhere.”
“Really? What a remarkable land. Why have I never visited before?” Perhaps instinctively he licked his lips. “Any chance it's open at the moment?” I nodded. Its mid-afternoon, of course its open. “In that case, why are we standing around here?” He strode off quickly, forcing me to step quickly to keep up. “You should have started the tour there. And ended it there as well.”
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
That Could Have Gone Better
“Is there anything in particular you'd like to see on the tour?” I asked after we got moving.
“Yes,” he noted aloud, nearly to himself, “the end.” A moment later, his eyes opened wide. “I said that out loud, didn't I?” I nodded. “Dreadfully sorry. Didn't mean it quite like that. I've been on this type of tour before you see and much of it becomes rather the same rather quickly. 'This is a hallway. This is a computer. Two hundred years ago, on this spot, a famous author once took a nap and here's the statue we have of the event.'” He shook his head. “Becomes rather trying.”
“Ah,” I noted seriously. “I suppose you won't be interested in seeing the garbage can Mark Twain once used, huh?”
He looked at me in horror. “Good Lord! You don't mean...?”
My smile formed almost immediately. “Just kidding. Couldn't resist.”
“Yes, well,” he grumbled. “Next time try a little harder to resist, hmm?” I coughed, erased the smile from my face, and apologized. We continued on.
“Yes,” he noted aloud, nearly to himself, “the end.” A moment later, his eyes opened wide. “I said that out loud, didn't I?” I nodded. “Dreadfully sorry. Didn't mean it quite like that. I've been on this type of tour before you see and much of it becomes rather the same rather quickly. 'This is a hallway. This is a computer. Two hundred years ago, on this spot, a famous author once took a nap and here's the statue we have of the event.'” He shook his head. “Becomes rather trying.”
“Ah,” I noted seriously. “I suppose you won't be interested in seeing the garbage can Mark Twain once used, huh?”
He looked at me in horror. “Good Lord! You don't mean...?”
My smile formed almost immediately. “Just kidding. Couldn't resist.”
“Yes, well,” he grumbled. “Next time try a little harder to resist, hmm?” I coughed, erased the smile from my face, and apologized. We continued on.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The Professor
I don't brown nose well. I'm friendly. I will tease if the relationship is there. I will compliment if appropriate. I don't crawl to curry favor. I don't see the point. If you cultivate a supervisor in that way, then the supervisor will get promoted or move departments or go to another job or something and now you've wasted all that time. I strive to be respectful and friendly to everyone, no matter their position relative to me. What's the old expression? You meet the same people on the way up that you meet on the way down. Or something like that anyway. It's not productive to kick the people below you and kiss the people above you. In a year, their positions could be switched. And then where are you? Stuck, that's where.
What was my point again? Oh, right, I don't brown nose well. As I watched some of my colleagues swarm Professor Smith-Smythe I became politely annoyed. I had things to do and sitting here watching them kiss his butt hadn't been on my to-do list. Eventually it settled down and we had out pointless, pointless meeting. The department heads all got up and explained how awesome they and their department happened to be.
Was I expected to give a presentation? Why of course. Good thing I had a copy on my portable drive. I did my best to keep it brief. That seemed to be a good choice. Professor Smith-Smythe's eyes glazed over at the abbreviation 'PC'.
Once everything was done and we were done patting ourselves on the back, the official meeting ended and they returned to sucking up to him on a one-to-one basis. I got bored and turned my attention to the snack table.
Midway through cramming the last bit of donut into my mouth, Cuthbold brought him over to meet me. Thankfully it was only powdered sugar, not like I had fingers of jelly, and it was easily dismissed before I shook his hand. Upon hearing my name he looked puzzled but then suddenly blurted out “Oh yes, the computer chappie. Yes, yes, I remember now. Excellent presentation you gave. Didn't understand much of it I'm afraid. Not terribly technical you know.” His accent was very British, rather proper but with a slight hiss or lisp.
“Not to worry,” I reassured, “not many people are. Generally speaking most people are comfortable turning their computer on and accessing their email. Anything beyond that leads them to calling me.” I tried to chuckle and lighten the mood, but just became paranoid that I'd managed to offend him. Cutting off the laugh before it became too nervous, I continued “Are you ready to begin the tour now or do you have more to do before we start?”
Professor Smith-Smythe looked at Cuthbold for the answer to my question. Cuthbold beamed. “Whenever you're ready Professor.”
The Professor grinned politely. “Yes, well, no time like the present I suppose.”
What was my point again? Oh, right, I don't brown nose well. As I watched some of my colleagues swarm Professor Smith-Smythe I became politely annoyed. I had things to do and sitting here watching them kiss his butt hadn't been on my to-do list. Eventually it settled down and we had out pointless, pointless meeting. The department heads all got up and explained how awesome they and their department happened to be.
Was I expected to give a presentation? Why of course. Good thing I had a copy on my portable drive. I did my best to keep it brief. That seemed to be a good choice. Professor Smith-Smythe's eyes glazed over at the abbreviation 'PC'.
Once everything was done and we were done patting ourselves on the back, the official meeting ended and they returned to sucking up to him on a one-to-one basis. I got bored and turned my attention to the snack table.
Midway through cramming the last bit of donut into my mouth, Cuthbold brought him over to meet me. Thankfully it was only powdered sugar, not like I had fingers of jelly, and it was easily dismissed before I shook his hand. Upon hearing my name he looked puzzled but then suddenly blurted out “Oh yes, the computer chappie. Yes, yes, I remember now. Excellent presentation you gave. Didn't understand much of it I'm afraid. Not terribly technical you know.” His accent was very British, rather proper but with a slight hiss or lisp.
“Not to worry,” I reassured, “not many people are. Generally speaking most people are comfortable turning their computer on and accessing their email. Anything beyond that leads them to calling me.” I tried to chuckle and lighten the mood, but just became paranoid that I'd managed to offend him. Cutting off the laugh before it became too nervous, I continued “Are you ready to begin the tour now or do you have more to do before we start?”
Professor Smith-Smythe looked at Cuthbold for the answer to my question. Cuthbold beamed. “Whenever you're ready Professor.”
The Professor grinned politely. “Yes, well, no time like the present I suppose.”
Monday, September 27, 2010
Grumping
None of this made me very happy. It was July and it was hot. Most of the school isn't in use at the moment and this is when we get most of our preventative maintenance completed. I had plans for this week and didn't want to derail them to give a tour while sweating in a suit. And tie. In these quiet yet busy days I generally had good reason to dress in jeans and a t-shirt without getting comments about the dress code. I had planned on not even shaving this week. This was going to be frustrating.
At least the gentleman was British. That might be interesting.
At least the gentleman was British. That might be interesting.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Meeting Time Approaches
Cuthbold doesn't so much burst into a room so much as stumble into it. Many of his skills involve him being awkward in some way. At least he's consistent. I know I pick on Cuthbold a lot, mostly because it's just so easy, but he does have a head for numbers and budgets and things like that. He's in his role because he keeps the school operating. He's good with numbers, not so much with people.
“Ah, Patrick, good, you're here.” I considered telling him that I wasn't really here, that I was a hologram or a figment of his imagination or a dream but I didn't think he'd fall for that again. “Just so you know, I'll need you to wear a suit on Thursday.”
I gaped at him in surprise. I could generally get away with a rather casual dress, only upgrading to serious business attire when we have the Big Meetings, but this was different. “A suit?” I echoed.
“And a tie, preferably one that attempts to match the rest of your outfit.” The man knows me too well.
I was crushed. It isn't so much that I can't dress up or never dress up but this level of dressing up for work didn't bode well. “May I inquire why I need the suit on Thursday?”
“And tie?” he reminded.
I amended my earlier question. “Suit and tie on Thursday?”
“Certainly you may. We've called an impromptu Board Meeting for that day. One of the more tenured members of our sister school in Middlesex, England will be here and we want to impress him.”
Knowing Cuthbold's way, I pressed further. “Will I need to prepare a presentation for this meeting?”
Cuthbold shook this off. “No, I shouldn't think so. He's a financial expert, not likely to have much interest in computers. Well, just remember, suit and tie for Thursday.” He nodded and headed out, barely avoiding my door as he left my office.
Once he was gone, to myself I counted to five. At five, Cuthbold's shiny dome reappeared in my doorway. “I will be calling upon you to give him a tour of the campus of course. You provide such a quality tour.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Excellent. Excellent.” He beamed. “Remember, suit and tie.”
Once he departed, I opened up my standard presentation to verify it was up-to-date. I expected he'd probably change his mind in a minute.
“Ah, Patrick, good, you're here.” I considered telling him that I wasn't really here, that I was a hologram or a figment of his imagination or a dream but I didn't think he'd fall for that again. “Just so you know, I'll need you to wear a suit on Thursday.”
I gaped at him in surprise. I could generally get away with a rather casual dress, only upgrading to serious business attire when we have the Big Meetings, but this was different. “A suit?” I echoed.
“And a tie, preferably one that attempts to match the rest of your outfit.” The man knows me too well.
I was crushed. It isn't so much that I can't dress up or never dress up but this level of dressing up for work didn't bode well. “May I inquire why I need the suit on Thursday?”
“And tie?” he reminded.
I amended my earlier question. “Suit and tie on Thursday?”
“Certainly you may. We've called an impromptu Board Meeting for that day. One of the more tenured members of our sister school in Middlesex, England will be here and we want to impress him.”
Knowing Cuthbold's way, I pressed further. “Will I need to prepare a presentation for this meeting?”
Cuthbold shook this off. “No, I shouldn't think so. He's a financial expert, not likely to have much interest in computers. Well, just remember, suit and tie for Thursday.” He nodded and headed out, barely avoiding my door as he left my office.
Once he was gone, to myself I counted to five. At five, Cuthbold's shiny dome reappeared in my doorway. “I will be calling upon you to give him a tour of the campus of course. You provide such a quality tour.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Excellent. Excellent.” He beamed. “Remember, suit and tie.”
Once he departed, I opened up my standard presentation to verify it was up-to-date. I expected he'd probably change his mind in a minute.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Perspective
“Do you at least talk to her?”
I didn't understand the question as such. I required a better idea of what answer was expected of me. “No we just sit in silence all night, night after night.” I gestured to fully communicate my sarcasm.
Angela rolled her eyes at me. “Fine. Do you discuss things, like emotions and interests and plans, not just sit there and do things together? Do you share yourself with her?”
This was something I hadn't considered before. “I dunno. I think so.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Ask her.”
“If she tells me no, what good does that do you?”
I was all confused at this point.”You'd come and yell at me? I dunno, why?”
“Because jokes aside, I like you Patrick,” she informed. “Sarah Jean seems nice. I don't want you to screw this up like you did with Heather.”
I hadn't thought myself capable of a greater degree of confusion but apparently I'd been wrong. “Huh wha?” I intelligently responded. “I know it was awhile ago now but she cheated on me, remember?”
“That made it all her fault?” Angela demanded.
“Seems a simple enough equation to me,” I answered. I ticked events off on my fingers. “Cheated on me, didn't seem to care what I thought about it, broke up with me. Yup, seems like she took charge of that situation.”
Angela just looked at me. “So. Why did she break up with you?”
This became frustrating. “I don't know! To sleep with... him I suppose, because I wouldn't.”
“Why not?”
“Because that's how I was raised. Silly to others maybe and why my head is wired that way may not make sense to anyone else but that's how my brain works.”
Angela nodded. “And Heather knew that?”
“Of course,” I declared. “It was an early discussion point in high school. We agreed on it.”
“Did you ever discuss it again?”
I paused to consider this. “I dunno. It's been awhile. I don't remember every conversation I've ever had. I know it seems like it sometimes but I dunno.”
“Can I tell you why I asked?”
“Please do!” I encouraged.
“I always thought you two were half a step away from breaking up,” Angela informed. “I didn't think either of you wanted to be without the other or had interests in someone else but that you were missing something that threatened your relationship.”
“Really?” I asked. When she nodded, I added “See because I always thought she and I had gotten to a rather comfortable level in our relationship. That's a lot of the reason why it... hurt me as badly as it did.”
“You were comfortable,” she agreed.”That was the nice thing about being around you two at the time but I think that was also your downfall.” I gave her a 'huh?' look that was her trigger to continue. “I think you two got too comfortable. You stopped communicating to each other so when there were things you needed to talk about, you'd forgotten how. Or maybe you just assumed the other would know. Or that you should know. Or that there was no point in discussing certain things because they had been settled.”
I fidgeted with the beer bottle before me. This was not unreasonable. “Hmm.” I considered this for another moment, realizing this would take some thought. “So you're saying it was like we were talking but not really talking.”
“I think so,” she responded. “From my perspective anyway.” I glanced back to her and saw her smiling at me. “I haven't seen 'thinking' Patrick for a long time.”
“I think all the time,” I protested playfully.
“But I haven't seen you do it,” she noted.
I conceded the point. “Ah, very true.” I looked at my beer and then back at her. “Thanks.”
She beamed at me. “You are very welcome. Now, don't screw it up!”
“Yes 'em.”
I didn't understand the question as such. I required a better idea of what answer was expected of me. “No we just sit in silence all night, night after night.” I gestured to fully communicate my sarcasm.
Angela rolled her eyes at me. “Fine. Do you discuss things, like emotions and interests and plans, not just sit there and do things together? Do you share yourself with her?”
This was something I hadn't considered before. “I dunno. I think so.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Ask her.”
“If she tells me no, what good does that do you?”
I was all confused at this point.”You'd come and yell at me? I dunno, why?”
“Because jokes aside, I like you Patrick,” she informed. “Sarah Jean seems nice. I don't want you to screw this up like you did with Heather.”
I hadn't thought myself capable of a greater degree of confusion but apparently I'd been wrong. “Huh wha?” I intelligently responded. “I know it was awhile ago now but she cheated on me, remember?”
“That made it all her fault?” Angela demanded.
“Seems a simple enough equation to me,” I answered. I ticked events off on my fingers. “Cheated on me, didn't seem to care what I thought about it, broke up with me. Yup, seems like she took charge of that situation.”
Angela just looked at me. “So. Why did she break up with you?”
This became frustrating. “I don't know! To sleep with... him I suppose, because I wouldn't.”
“Why not?”
“Because that's how I was raised. Silly to others maybe and why my head is wired that way may not make sense to anyone else but that's how my brain works.”
Angela nodded. “And Heather knew that?”
“Of course,” I declared. “It was an early discussion point in high school. We agreed on it.”
“Did you ever discuss it again?”
I paused to consider this. “I dunno. It's been awhile. I don't remember every conversation I've ever had. I know it seems like it sometimes but I dunno.”
“Can I tell you why I asked?”
“Please do!” I encouraged.
“I always thought you two were half a step away from breaking up,” Angela informed. “I didn't think either of you wanted to be without the other or had interests in someone else but that you were missing something that threatened your relationship.”
“Really?” I asked. When she nodded, I added “See because I always thought she and I had gotten to a rather comfortable level in our relationship. That's a lot of the reason why it... hurt me as badly as it did.”
“You were comfortable,” she agreed.”That was the nice thing about being around you two at the time but I think that was also your downfall.” I gave her a 'huh?' look that was her trigger to continue. “I think you two got too comfortable. You stopped communicating to each other so when there were things you needed to talk about, you'd forgotten how. Or maybe you just assumed the other would know. Or that you should know. Or that there was no point in discussing certain things because they had been settled.”
I fidgeted with the beer bottle before me. This was not unreasonable. “Hmm.” I considered this for another moment, realizing this would take some thought. “So you're saying it was like we were talking but not really talking.”
“I think so,” she responded. “From my perspective anyway.” I glanced back to her and saw her smiling at me. “I haven't seen 'thinking' Patrick for a long time.”
“I think all the time,” I protested playfully.
“But I haven't seen you do it,” she noted.
I conceded the point. “Ah, very true.” I looked at my beer and then back at her. “Thanks.”
She beamed at me. “You are very welcome. Now, don't screw it up!”
“Yes 'em.”
Sunday, September 19, 2010
A Sudden Confession
It was the bugs that finally drove me indoors. Sure it was sunny, sure it was muggy, but that I could deal with to some degree. Bugs not so much. Insects, especially those that bite, seem to be fascinated by me, attracted to me even. I can only swat them away for so long before the entertainment value wanes.
Inside the house was not off limits by any means and there were a few people hiding out in there, so I was not being antisocial by going inside. Richard was in there as well as Dave, Kelly and his wife Kellie, and Jerry. I was cheerfully greeted and joined them, trying to not think too much about what else Scott was telling Sarah Jean. Time flew.
Time eventually flew the beer through my personage and the time to remove it had arrived. After I'd taken care of this vital mission, I emerged from the room of rest to discover that the size of our group inside had increased. Angela had arrived! I haven't seen her in years, was just talking about her and here she is. Scott must have told that story knowing she would be coming to the party. She looked good, really quite good. I have no interest in going into much detail as, well, I don't need any more violence from Sarah Jean. I was pleased to see her and was pleased to see that she was pleased to see me as well. Tucked away in the hallway, we quickly caught up on the past years as neither of us felt we had much of anything critical to report.
“It's so nice to see you again Patrick,” she enthused. The she smiled rather warmly at me while becoming distracted by her shoes. “You know I was always... fond of you.”
“As was I of you,” I returned. “I thought we were pretty good friends. Even after the... unpleasantness.”
She remained focused on her feet. “That was so awkward. I mean, I wanted to say something then but it seemed too soon after you two broke up and you clearly needed some time to adjust to everything.” Angela managed to look up at me to see my look of confusion. This seemed to give her the confidence to smile at me. “Oh dear sweet innocent Patrick. You never noticed?”
“Noticed what?” I quickly echoed.
“I had such a crush on you.” Her hand reached out for my chin, then snapped away as if I were a hot stove. “I would never do anything to have split you up but I wanted you to be available so badly.” She leaned in, invading my personal space. Shocked by this revelation, I braced myself with the wall behind me, allowing her to trap me. Her voice lowered and became breathy. I was far too aware of her nearness. “I spent nights thinking about you, wondering what it would be like to have you hold me close.” She paused, looking into my eyes as if she could see through them into my very soul. “I always imagined you as a... generous lover.”
It took a second but my brain processed that concept, breaking my surprise. “You've been talking to Sarah Jean, haven't you?”
Immediately she began giggling and fell back to the wall behind her. “I'm sorry,” she managed. “I just couldn't help myself.” I just gave her a sour 'I'm mad at you but not really mad at you' look. Now that my emotions were returning to normal, I could see some humor in her action.
Nice to see some things don't change.
Inside the house was not off limits by any means and there were a few people hiding out in there, so I was not being antisocial by going inside. Richard was in there as well as Dave, Kelly and his wife Kellie, and Jerry. I was cheerfully greeted and joined them, trying to not think too much about what else Scott was telling Sarah Jean. Time flew.
Time eventually flew the beer through my personage and the time to remove it had arrived. After I'd taken care of this vital mission, I emerged from the room of rest to discover that the size of our group inside had increased. Angela had arrived! I haven't seen her in years, was just talking about her and here she is. Scott must have told that story knowing she would be coming to the party. She looked good, really quite good. I have no interest in going into much detail as, well, I don't need any more violence from Sarah Jean. I was pleased to see her and was pleased to see that she was pleased to see me as well. Tucked away in the hallway, we quickly caught up on the past years as neither of us felt we had much of anything critical to report.
“It's so nice to see you again Patrick,” she enthused. The she smiled rather warmly at me while becoming distracted by her shoes. “You know I was always... fond of you.”
“As was I of you,” I returned. “I thought we were pretty good friends. Even after the... unpleasantness.”
She remained focused on her feet. “That was so awkward. I mean, I wanted to say something then but it seemed too soon after you two broke up and you clearly needed some time to adjust to everything.” Angela managed to look up at me to see my look of confusion. This seemed to give her the confidence to smile at me. “Oh dear sweet innocent Patrick. You never noticed?”
“Noticed what?” I quickly echoed.
“I had such a crush on you.” Her hand reached out for my chin, then snapped away as if I were a hot stove. “I would never do anything to have split you up but I wanted you to be available so badly.” She leaned in, invading my personal space. Shocked by this revelation, I braced myself with the wall behind me, allowing her to trap me. Her voice lowered and became breathy. I was far too aware of her nearness. “I spent nights thinking about you, wondering what it would be like to have you hold me close.” She paused, looking into my eyes as if she could see through them into my very soul. “I always imagined you as a... generous lover.”
It took a second but my brain processed that concept, breaking my surprise. “You've been talking to Sarah Jean, haven't you?”
Immediately she began giggling and fell back to the wall behind her. “I'm sorry,” she managed. “I just couldn't help myself.” I just gave her a sour 'I'm mad at you but not really mad at you' look. Now that my emotions were returning to normal, I could see some humor in her action.
Nice to see some things don't change.
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