Plains, January 2017
First day of the semester. A day of anticipation and dread. Will my new classes be a pleasure or a pain? Which students will be eager to participate? Which will be taciturn?
But today I'm feeling a little off: I got no sleep last night, and somehow I pulled a muscle doing bicep curls, of all things.
Plus I'm teaching an overload this semester, so it's class nonstop all morning, with no breaks. I have to dash out to get lunch and eat it in my office during my office hours.
It's exactly noon, and very crowded at the Student Union Food Court. I get into the line at the Grille for my regular lunch of chicken, vegetables, and a fountain drink.
The line moves sideways, cafeteria-style. The guy next to me turns and smiles.
"It's my first time here. Is it any good?"
He's a student, taller than me and rather stocky, wearing a brown sweater and jeans, but no coat. Reddish-brown hair, short reddish-brown beard, blue eyes. Reminds me of Alan the Pentecostal Porn Star, my friend in West Hollywood..
"Sure. I eat here almost every day. The grilled chicken and brown rice is pretty healthy."
"I'm Wagner[not his real name]. I just started in the graduate school."
This is weird. You don't speak in line except to complain about the weather, and you certainly don't introduce yourself to someone you'll be standing next to for only about 30 seconds. You stare at the food, or look at your cell phone.
The full story, with nude photos and explicit sexual situations, is on Tales of West Hollywood.
First day of the semester. A day of anticipation and dread. Will my new classes be a pleasure or a pain? Which students will be eager to participate? Which will be taciturn?
But today I'm feeling a little off: I got no sleep last night, and somehow I pulled a muscle doing bicep curls, of all things.
Plus I'm teaching an overload this semester, so it's class nonstop all morning, with no breaks. I have to dash out to get lunch and eat it in my office during my office hours.
It's exactly noon, and very crowded at the Student Union Food Court. I get into the line at the Grille for my regular lunch of chicken, vegetables, and a fountain drink.
The line moves sideways, cafeteria-style. The guy next to me turns and smiles.
"It's my first time here. Is it any good?"
He's a student, taller than me and rather stocky, wearing a brown sweater and jeans, but no coat. Reddish-brown hair, short reddish-brown beard, blue eyes. Reminds me of Alan the Pentecostal Porn Star, my friend in West Hollywood..
"Sure. I eat here almost every day. The grilled chicken and brown rice is pretty healthy."
"I'm Wagner[not his real name]. I just started in the graduate school."
This is weird. You don't speak in line except to complain about the weather, and you certainly don't introduce yourself to someone you'll be standing next to for only about 30 seconds. You stare at the food, or look at your cell phone.
The full story, with nude photos and explicit sexual situations, is on Tales of West Hollywood.