As the warm summer month of August faded away, my summer life was coming to an end, and my school life was just beginning. Fall was just around the corner, but considering how hot Tucson always is, it's hard to distinguish the autumn months from July. What was even harder to distinguish was how Alice would react when I talked to her about my hour proposal. I had hoped to find some charming way to break the ice, the same way Tom Hanks charmed Meg Ryan in You've Got Mail when he talked about sending her a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils, because it was fall in New York. Unfortunately, the only thing I could come up with was...well, nothing.
When I got to the flower shop, early Tuesday morning, I noticed a change. A disturbance in the flower force. One look at the time cards, and I knew what it was. Alice had hired a new girl. Full time. Her name was Wendi. Wendi with an "I" because "Wendi with an I, is totally divine!" But beyond the lame joke, Wendi wasnt all that bad. She was kinda smart, kinda funny, kinda pretty and she kinda got me. I'd have to kill her.
But before I could devise a devious plan, Alice called to remind me to pay the beverage delivery guy and I reminded her I needed to have a talk with her in private. Alice figured since I was already on the phone with her, now was as good a time as any and so I went right into my rehearsed speech.
ME: It's just, it doesnt make any sense that I'm only coming in for eight hours.
ALICE: Well, do you wanna work Fridays? I mean, you know were not a big conglomerate business or anything, but I think we can squeeze you in.
ME: Well, it's just I need to know if I have to get a second job or not, because...
ALICE: Well, David, you have to do whatever you feel is right. I mean, if you feel you need more money and have to quit you wont hurt my feelings. I'll be ok, David.
ME: Well, I'm not gonna quit...
ALICE: But if you want to, I'll be ok. I wont be mad.
ME: Well, if I can work Fridays...
ALICE: You just have to do whatever you feel is right, David. You need to be comfortable with your decision.
The one thing I wasnt comfortable with, was Alice's answers. Was she hinting that she would be fine if I left? I got the answer I was looking for, so why wasnt I happy? Would I not be missed? Was I not missable?
Later that day, after our math class, I told my friend Madelaine everything that had happened, and wondered just how long my future with Alice and Wendi-with-an-I would last. Madelaine was actually surprised Alice hired somebody so fast but before she could give me her thoughts on the situation, she left to her next class, leaving me alone with unanswered questions and my thoughts. That's when I saw my American Sign Language teacher Ms. Pati Retahd. She was a young teacher, in her mid-twenties, who was kinda smart, kinda funny, kinda pretty and she kinda got me. I knew I was going to like this class.
Because I had signed up a day late, Ms. Pati still needed to show me the Language Lab and offered to do so, after she grabbed a bite to eat in the school cafeteria. Ironically enough, Ms. Pati “forgot” her wallet and so I had to take on the role of gentleman and pay. We talked for an hour starting with the whole “So how’s school going?” speech and ended with the usual “What are you gonna do?” eye-roll. It was just so easy to talk to Ms. Pati, because it was like I was talking to just another fellow student. At one point, during the middle of our conversation, Ms. Pati reached over and pushed back the hair that had fallen over my forehead. Not that I have long hair like a Calvin Klein male model that hangs over the eyes and gives me a tortured soul look, but maybe she wanted to see my forehead. I’ll admit it was a little out there, but ambiguous enough that I could ignore it. Except, she did a second time. Then touched my arm. Then, I remembered that she wasn’t just another fellow student. She was my teacher.
The next morning, ten minutes late into my Religion in Popular Culture class, I was welcomed with a small television clip of the WB show, Dawson’s Creek where Pacey kissed his teacher Tamara Jacobs. Did the whole class know of my sordid lunch affair with Ms. Pati? Actually, thank God, no. The video was a documentary on the way pop culture has reflected the lives of young adults and what they see on television and vice versa. Maybe it was all in my head? Maybe I was reading too much into the whole Ms. Pati thing.
Later that day, when I was actually in my sign language class, I couldnt dismiss the obvious signs that were being thrown my way. Because we were one student short, I had to practice my signing with Ms. Pati. When she gave examples of the daily life of a deaf person, she talked about her family, her eight month old baby, and her fiancé. When class was over, Ms. Pati decided to let everyone out by having everyone sign their last name and make a feeling using only their face, because to a deaf person, expression is the tone of voice. Coincidently, I was the last one Ms. Pati pointed to, and because I was last, I had to make five different expressions. I only got to the third face, when a fellow student came in asking if they could ask Ms. Pati a quick question. I saw it as a way out, but didnt know what to make of the whole thing. Obviously, Ms. Pati wanted me. Or did she? And if so, I'm wondering how far I would actually go to having an affair with a teacher. Am I that kinda guy?
When I got to the flower shop, early Tuesday morning, I noticed a change. A disturbance in the flower force. One look at the time cards, and I knew what it was. Alice had hired a new girl. Full time. Her name was Wendi. Wendi with an "I" because "Wendi with an I, is totally divine!" But beyond the lame joke, Wendi wasnt all that bad. She was kinda smart, kinda funny, kinda pretty and she kinda got me. I'd have to kill her.
But before I could devise a devious plan, Alice called to remind me to pay the beverage delivery guy and I reminded her I needed to have a talk with her in private. Alice figured since I was already on the phone with her, now was as good a time as any and so I went right into my rehearsed speech.
ME: It's just, it doesnt make any sense that I'm only coming in for eight hours.
ALICE: Well, do you wanna work Fridays? I mean, you know were not a big conglomerate business or anything, but I think we can squeeze you in.
ME: Well, it's just I need to know if I have to get a second job or not, because...
ALICE: Well, David, you have to do whatever you feel is right. I mean, if you feel you need more money and have to quit you wont hurt my feelings. I'll be ok, David.
ME: Well, I'm not gonna quit...
ALICE: But if you want to, I'll be ok. I wont be mad.
ME: Well, if I can work Fridays...
ALICE: You just have to do whatever you feel is right, David. You need to be comfortable with your decision.
The one thing I wasnt comfortable with, was Alice's answers. Was she hinting that she would be fine if I left? I got the answer I was looking for, so why wasnt I happy? Would I not be missed? Was I not missable?
Later that day, after our math class, I told my friend Madelaine everything that had happened, and wondered just how long my future with Alice and Wendi-with-an-I would last. Madelaine was actually surprised Alice hired somebody so fast but before she could give me her thoughts on the situation, she left to her next class, leaving me alone with unanswered questions and my thoughts. That's when I saw my American Sign Language teacher Ms. Pati Retahd. She was a young teacher, in her mid-twenties, who was kinda smart, kinda funny, kinda pretty and she kinda got me. I knew I was going to like this class.
Because I had signed up a day late, Ms. Pati still needed to show me the Language Lab and offered to do so, after she grabbed a bite to eat in the school cafeteria. Ironically enough, Ms. Pati “forgot” her wallet and so I had to take on the role of gentleman and pay. We talked for an hour starting with the whole “So how’s school going?” speech and ended with the usual “What are you gonna do?” eye-roll. It was just so easy to talk to Ms. Pati, because it was like I was talking to just another fellow student. At one point, during the middle of our conversation, Ms. Pati reached over and pushed back the hair that had fallen over my forehead. Not that I have long hair like a Calvin Klein male model that hangs over the eyes and gives me a tortured soul look, but maybe she wanted to see my forehead. I’ll admit it was a little out there, but ambiguous enough that I could ignore it. Except, she did a second time. Then touched my arm. Then, I remembered that she wasn’t just another fellow student. She was my teacher.
The next morning, ten minutes late into my Religion in Popular Culture class, I was welcomed with a small television clip of the WB show, Dawson’s Creek where Pacey kissed his teacher Tamara Jacobs. Did the whole class know of my sordid lunch affair with Ms. Pati? Actually, thank God, no. The video was a documentary on the way pop culture has reflected the lives of young adults and what they see on television and vice versa. Maybe it was all in my head? Maybe I was reading too much into the whole Ms. Pati thing.
Later that day, when I was actually in my sign language class, I couldnt dismiss the obvious signs that were being thrown my way. Because we were one student short, I had to practice my signing with Ms. Pati. When she gave examples of the daily life of a deaf person, she talked about her family, her eight month old baby, and her fiancé. When class was over, Ms. Pati decided to let everyone out by having everyone sign their last name and make a feeling using only their face, because to a deaf person, expression is the tone of voice. Coincidently, I was the last one Ms. Pati pointed to, and because I was last, I had to make five different expressions. I only got to the third face, when a fellow student came in asking if they could ask Ms. Pati a quick question. I saw it as a way out, but didnt know what to make of the whole thing. Obviously, Ms. Pati wanted me. Or did she? And if so, I'm wondering how far I would actually go to having an affair with a teacher. Am I that kinda guy?
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