The Best Laid Plans

The Best Laid Plans

Three days later, Julie found herself in yet another one of her nursing classes, when she observed a peculiar thing. Professor Busch's teaching assistant (TA) was acting a little strangely. She was not distracted, attending her duties without a problem, but she followed the Professor like a magnetic compass needle, pointing north. It was not a matter of following him around the room like the proverbial puppy. Rather, she turned to face him when he moved, and followed him with her gaze when she did not. When seated, she didn't turn her head, but her eyes traced his movements, and her shamefaced demeanor was evident by the change that affected her when she found herself near him. Her breathing deepened, and she groomed herself unnecessarily, a living illustration of the old lyric, “Don't stand, don't stand so, don't stand so close to me!”

While Julie noticed it, it was subtle enough that she wondered if anyone else could see the same thing. Like a mirage, she could hardly be certain it was there at all, but it had its effect. To put it frankly, Julie concluded that they were lovers. Lovers, but not equals; he had clearly overwhelmed her senses, and his TA was now his willing slave.

The teacher's name was “Busch,” so he was already a by-line in student conversation. Comments about beer and beaver abounded. Even when there were no comments specifically about HIM, the association, with ads and such, still engendered more “off color” remarks than random chance could justify. At the moment, he was famously recovering from divorce, and Julie was sufficiently astute to connect the dots... he wasn't getting any, being unattached; he had probably harvested his TA like a lobster in a trap, and his ability must have combined with interest, to result in an Olympic performance. The net effect was to stoke the furnace of desire, lurking in her loins. Such ability fired the imagination.

Chance directs events from stimulus, but individuals manage outcomes by the ways they respond to these stimuli. Without making any effort to articulate her thoughts, Julie knew she wanted to do more than lie in bed at night, stalemating biological reproduction. She chose to deal very constructively with her impulse. Her “War on Drugs” professor, Amanda Lawrence, had long been divorced, and she was almost as famous, for her “single and loving it,” attitude as Dr. Busch was for his own, more recent, divorce. Surely Dr. Lawrence would make a better foil for Dr. Busch's passions, and be a harder individual for him to “take advantage” of?

She waited after class, as if to ask a question. She was sure that simply lying to each that the other was interested, wouldn't work. That was not even reliably successful in High School. But rather than intimidating her, the difficulty spurred her to greater effort. “Dr. Busch, Dr. Lawrence just got back from S. America, and she wants to coordinate classroom assignments for next semester. Specifically, she wants to know if you can share your multimedia overhead projector.” If she was caught in her lie, she would blame the brainwashed TA... the motive that impelled the scheme would simply attach to the wrong person.

Dr. Busch was brusk at first. “I'm not sure I can spare it. What does she need it for?” he responded.

“She shows DEA PSA's and demo clips, as well as a lot of image files. Stuff like 'methmouth' pictures, and online diagrams of traffic patterns and money laundering schemes.” Julie had been VERY attentive during her War on Drugs class, last semester.

The altruistic benefit of simply preventing addiction appealed to him. “I'll think about it,” he said.

“Can I give her a message?” Julie pressed. “She's been kind of irritable lately.”

It was a weak segue, but the implication temporarily blinded her teacher to her oversight. The old comment, “You need to get laid,” was one he used because he believed in it. If he understood correctly, he could perform a public service for her students if he obliged. Not only was Mandy attractive, but she wouldn't be looking for a commitment, and if she was fresh off a field trip as this student claimed, the time was ripe. “Tell you what, Julie: I'll talk to her about it myself.”

Julie knew the lie would be exposed. It was only a matter of time, but the penalty would likely be negligible. She launched out on faith and sought his eye. “Thank you sir,” she intoned.

He took her meaning, and laughed inwardly at her transparency. Apparently he was not the only person who “knew,” that women need to get laid!