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I considered using my free hand to dial 911 in hopes that maybe the Jaws of Life my free my hand from her grip but decided to try the low-tech approach, first, and, teeth clenched, said, “Is it ok if I shake some blood back down into my hand? I think you squeezed it all out.”

As I spoke I gently put my other hand over hers, and tugged my trapped hand gently. She seemed to snap back to the present and said, “Oh! I am so so so sorry!”

She quickly released my hand, only to catch me by the wrist. She lifted my hand to her lips and kissed and then looked at me with giant puppy dog eyes and said, “Please forgive me, I am dealing with some issues here and I should not have put them onto you.”

“Not a problem, Ms. Sp... err, Elise, not a problem,” I said, though I managed to find various ways to keep my hands busy, lest they suffer the same treatment.

She also idly searched for and found her keys, then turned and asked me, “Why did you show me your pictures?”

I ever so smoothly replied, “Huh?”

“Your pictures,” she said, “ as paranoid as you claim to be, and probably are, from what I have been able to see, that seems out of character for you to have shown them to me so easily.”

I am sure my face was in that typical 'I've been an giant idiot!' expression as I pondered for a moment then finally said, “I guess I knew the jig was up. At that point, I guess I was worn out from hiding and pretending I was normal, as if there was, is such thing. I dunno. I may have said before, I have pretty decent instincts about people. I decided that maybe it was time to trust someone and maybe that someone was you. Besides, you had the entire story already laid out except for actually seeing the photos.”

“Fair enough,” she said, “however tentative your answer is.” Which also earned me a momentary scowl. “I'll be in touch after I have had lunch with Marge and find out just how she perceived your, umm, encounter. What set you off, anyway? You normally come across as such a sweetheart.”

“She was trying to do some kind of drill instructor routine, set up a dominance hierarchy. I do not go for the entire dom/sub thing and it puts me on edge when people try to play it on me. With all the extra background I have now that I did not have before, I would suspect that she wanted me to associate living in a male persona as regimented BS so that she could present me transitioning as some kind of... I dunno... umm... improvement of circumstances.” I sighed. “I did the military thing. I have a bit of law enforcement in my background, too, but you may have missed it because I did not put it on my resume because it was not technical.”

I stopped the pacing I had not realized I had started while I was considering my answer and looked her in the eyes as I said, “I have been though and over and around and to a lot. And made it back. I've seen people die. I been thought dead once or twice myself. I've nursed people through some pretty tragic events. I've been bullied a time or three and I dealt with it. Now, when people try that kind of thing, I generally make sure I am more than they can handle. I guess I overdid it with her, but I do not regret my actions. People who think they can push others around for their own good have lost perspective.” I looked away and put my hands in my pockets. “And, I can pretty much be a butthead if you strike me the wrong way.”

She giggled and shook her head and then folded into her car like a ballerina folding down onto a stage to close a performance.

I made a note to hit the university provided gym tomorrow before class, rather than my normal routine of checking the work orders generated overnight. I had been getting too regular in my habits, anyway and now I wanted to work on loosing some more weight and also on my flexibililty.

I waved as she backed her car out and drove away. I got into my own car and drove to my normal parking place. I went to my office and checked the days notes. The guys had taken my absence as an opportunity to show what the could do and had really performed well. There were no work orders left to finish, no negative notes of things they could not solve, and I saw that all the data entry for the knowledge base was already keyed and that all the filing was done.

I individually made notations in the files of each member of my crew stating my pleasure with their initiative and skill. I especially praised Marty. I could see his hand in a couple of the more difficult fixes that had been done, though he had not taken credit. I also fired off an email requesting he get a merit raise. The student crew was on a different kind of payscale I could not effect, but the commendations I gave them would be something they could put into their resumes.

Confident that I was caught up at work, I left a full two hours earlier than I often did. I picked up some grilled chicken salads on the way home and wondered what I would walk into, tonight.

So ends Day 1.
 
 
Day 2 saw me in the gym bright and early. I did a spin class, pilates, yoga, and finished off with a swim. I was so tired I could barely move. It was great! A shower and fresh clothes, later, I came stumbling out. Having the foresight to know I would probably overdo, I had parked in my normal place and driven a golf cart to the gym. I returned the golf cart and went into my office to check for overnight work orders. There was only one and it did not look too bad. I put it in the “first student crew to arrive” basket and checked my email, of which, nothing was significant. I gathered up my books and headed to class. Such glamor, right?

I was still tired from my workout so I took the department golf cart the quarter mile to the building that housed my first class, Chinese I. I was really enjoying learning the language and the culture that was its foundation. Which did not make it any easier!

From there, I drove the golf cart back and took my car to the Engineering campus for my next class, microprocessor design. I found this class just as interesting but in a different way. Where Chinese allowed me to communicate and express, and to see the beauty of a culture new to me, the design class showed me the elegance of industrial art in both the hardware and the microcode of the processors I was studying. A lot of people did not understand how I can be so happy in both classes, but it made perfect sense to me.

When I got out of my micro class, I went to a facility work station and logged into to my department account remotely. It was a slow day for work orders so I drove back to the main campus and got to work on a list of preventative measures I had developed. I knew the more time I invested in this type activity, the fewer work orders we would see, but I also knew the more uptime would mean better class productivity and as I needed smaller and smaller crews, more would be invested in infrastructure hardware and we would be needed for more equipment meaning more problems meaning larger crews again.

There would obviously never be an end to the cycle, but I was doing all I could to be a positive force by maximizing production and usability, minimizing frustration, maintaining campus morale, and negating problems before they could even happen.

I was doing all the hard work for several reasons. Two of them were selfish and at either end of the priority list: I wanted to bury myself in work so completely I had no life and no time for other thoughts, except class and homework; and I wanted to make a name for myself for later advancement. Believe it or not, advancement was last on my list of priorities.

There were others, such as work ethic; helping my student crew; advancing my alma mater; and even just to be able to attend class in properly equipped rooms.

But, when I was really, totally honest with myself, I did not want to be at home and I did not want to think. My car was my private space. My office represented my own personal work of art. My classes were my catch-all excuse for anything my work did not cover. I could always have homework to catch up. Chinese was especially good for that!

I had seen shirts and bumper stickers that said no brain, no pain. That was my basic strategy and I had any number of tactics to act on that strategy. As far as I was concerned, if my brain was so busy it had no time to think of the negative, then that was the same has having no brain. Somewhere in there is having your cake and eating it, too... but that makes me think of prions and mad cow and too many unsettling thoughts. You can tackle that one on your own!

I was midway done taking a apart a CPU and cleaning it thoroughly to keep the dust build up under control when Elise appeared from nowhere. Somehow my perception kicked in before my reflexes got me in trouble. Still, I had already dropped to one knee and was only an inch from an elbow strike to the outside of her near knee when I stopped myself. The resulting blow would have dropped the intruder dramatically at my feet but my paranoia had almost caused me to attack Elise.

I drew my arm back so quickly, she never saw it under the tray she was carrying. If I did not already feel like a heel before, now I was pretty much doomed.

I stood back up and looked at the tray she was carrying and managed an only slightly strangled “Hi”. I am pretty sure my eyes only a little larger than coffee saucers.

Do not get me wrong, I was surprised she was there and I was surprised she had food, but that was not all that was going on in my head. However, she thought I was really surprised about her and the food. Oh my goodness, I am beginning to think this woman sees me as some kind of paranoid lunatic that needs to be nursed back into society. I wonder what would cause her to think something like that?

I smiled and said, “Umm... I am covered in dust and grime and you manage to come in looking like a magazine ad for the latest new look at Dillards **and** you are carrying food. I love you and hate you and love you all at the same time!”

She gave me exactly the look I expected. “Why would you hate me?” Her lip trembled microscopically.

I grinned in a kind-of devilish fashion as I said, “I love you because you are so stylish and trendy and put-together, but I hate you because you look so great and I am so ugly but I love you for thinking of me to the point you would track me down with food!” I only gushed a little bit as I said it.

From the appraising expression I got in return, she obviously thought I was full of BS but for some reason she was good with that.

“Whatever,” she replied, but I have two of the best grilled chicken salads ever prepared by human hands. Interested?”

My hands flew into a blurr reassembling the computer I had finished disassembling and cleaning as she and I had spoken. “I am 5 to 7 minutes from finishing this machine, which must be complete in under 20 minutes to make the next class in this room.”

She thought for a moment. “What if we met in the faculty lounge in the next building over in 8 minutes and by then I'll have some fresh ranch dressing for the salads and maybe even some Cinnamon Dolce for me and a mocha for you!”

I responded with a resounding “Deal!”

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To Be Continued...

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