My Girlfriend

Can I first say that I hate election years? 

OK, so there was this guy who graduated with me in college - very intelligent. We found each other early on in our major. And by found, I mean, used. In several classes, within the first few days, teams were formed for a major project which would be due at the end of the semester. I was fortunate enough to get him on my team in one of my first classes and he was different than most of the other participants - he worked, lead, criticized, improved, and contributed. I really don't know why it was, but until that point I was always the one who was working, leading, criticizing, improving and contributing to the teams I was on. He and I realized that we both had similar talents, work-ethic, etc. and decided that we needed to arrange for classes together so we could have a better time conquering same. 

Our strategy was simple: we took the same classes. On the first day we split up on opposite sides of the class and covertly began interviewing other unsuspecting students in an attempt to determine if they would be good team members and if they could comply with our demands: get an A, pull your weight, don't whine when we correct your writing or thinking, work hard, have fun, dominate, claim superiority, and eventually rule the world. 

Our strategy worked. Well! The student/victims were easy to spot. The best ones always looked ready to start and their informal interview would reveal their GPA and an elicited complaint about having to carry previous groups or teams of which they had been a part. BINGO – you're hired, er, um, yes, you should join our group. See my blog April 27, 2007. This is not why I started this jag. 

I wanted to tell you about my girlfriend. That is what Betsy and Debi started calling him. He was the really smart guy. So, he wasn't terribly good with the ladies and so he would ask me to coach him. Also, he called often. Oh, and he wondered what I was doing. And, um, what I was doing. And, could I come over and eat. And, we need to get together and work this project out. And stuff like that. He was hetero but that did not mean he was not, um, attentive. 

I remember running into him years later at a restaurant Debi and I love in north Phoenix. He was on a date – with his soon-to-be-second wife. The first one disappeared in the night when he was on a business trip some years earlier. Anyway, when I walked up to his table, he abruptly reached out his hand to shake my hand and I instinctively matched his jerky motion reaching for his hand. The trouble was, his full water glass was twixt the two of us. I hit it and it didn't just topple, it slammed to the table and doused him. 

He jumped up and slipped off his loafers to reveal the powder in them then sheepishly commented that I was trying to sabotage his date. I wasn't. Even though he was my girlfriend.