Our sometimes raunchy, always funny side conversations as faculty were a far cry from what was expected at various meetings, especially those where Dr. Bobblehead was in attendance. Sanjara whispered, upon meeting him, "He is so not straight." SHHHHHHH, hissed Sally, who was going through a blissfully optimistic phase in her career and saw this new administrator as full of possibilities. I spotted Amanda, hand extended, about to meet him. That was going to be some handshake. She had to convey power and poise - a firm grip, no sweaty palms but it couldn't be a grateful handshake. There could be no trace of weakness in that shake. I saw her extend her arm, make direct, piercing eye contact, tighten her grip and pump a few times. Her smile was toothless, two pink lines curved up at the edges. Good for her, I thought. He hadn't earned a toothy smile yet. Then I noticed something pass quickly across her face - a look of confusion. Oh no, I whispered to Sanji. He's got a weak handshake, doesn't he? Why do you think I said he is so NOT straight? I thought it was the slight lisp, I said. I'm sorry. Jillian mouthed, "but he's married....to a woman."
Dr. Bobblehead said a few meaningless words, something about being on a "listening tour" and eager to hear all our thoughts. I sputtered with contempt and got another look from Sally. We made our way out of the "MEET YOUR NEW PRESIDENT" session in search of cookies. The chocolate chip cookies provide by our dismal contracted caterer were a highlight compared to most of the fare they dished up and a better option than the vending machines in a pinch. There was a line to get them so Sally pulled us aside, saying "Let's wait until the line eases up. Besides, you three are really something." "What did we do?" I said, a little too loudly. "All this not straight stuff. It's ridiculous and irrelevant but still, you're wrong." "Excuse me Mustang Sally, but since when are you not engaged in assessing the new king?" I AM assessing but not THAT. Sanji said, "Who cares, it's not like it's bad to be gay." "MY GOD you are obsessed," Sally said, nodding at us with pity. Keep in mind, Sally was 6' tall maybe 6'1 in her crocs, 220 pounds, with a borderline reddish gray crewcut and big red glasses like the other Sally of talk show fame. She was wearing her uniform - cargo pants and a man's polo shirt stretched taught over her what she called her "fabulous boobatitular area." A slash of pink lipstick was her only girly give-in and she'd been a Division I lacrosse player in college. "You might not believe this, she said, but people sometimes think I'm gay! Ridiculous." Sanji and I just looked her up and down then looked at each other. It wasn't something we talked about, really but the day that Sally mentioned her husband and kids in her class was usually a big deal. The students filed out of class whispering, "She's got kids???? She's married to a man?" For an incredibly self-aware woman, it was her one tiny blind spot.
Sally looked down at her crocs and hiked up her cargo pants. Noticing our silence, she said, "Wait, do I give off a lesbian vibe?" Sanji held up her thumb and forefinger, implying maybe a little bit? Sally sighed and said, "It's the shoes, right? Jesus." Then she snickered so I figured it wasn't too bad.
I decided to change the subject. "My bigger question to you is why this cockeyed optimism about a new administrator? You're usually skeptical with a sprinkling of hard-core cynicism."
"I think I'm desperate," she sighed. Sally had started teaching in the early 90s, and spoke glowingly about her first ten years at the college. "We were all so into the students, you know? There wasn't any of this online bullshit, or Artificial Insanity and Chat GPTurdfest. I was the young one then, believe it or not, but everyone - even the ones who had been teaching since the place opened in the 60s - was into teaching. We used to have student-faculty volleyball games for crissake. Now it's all about what's in the contract and who's got seniority. I'm hoping this guy will get us back on track. I have to hope because I don't know what else to do."
I knew what she meant. My aunt was on the faculty when Sally started. She was the "cool" aunt with great stories. She worked with college kids so she knew all the slang and trends and we loved her teaching stories. Aunt Elaine had no kids of her own but a super cool husband, Uncle Georgio. He taught ceramics at the college and worshipped his wife. I would watch him watching her and think, I hope someone looks at me like that someday. He was so comfortable in his own skin and loved having Elaine in the spotlight. Anytime someone directed the conversation to him he would smile and say, Elaine, you tell it. You tell the story so much better. Then he would lean back in his chair to listen.
When Sally and Elaine were teaching at the college, it was a different world.
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