Napalm on That Shit

Originally written on October 8, 2009 at 4:16pm

"So, you don't want to be friends [with him] then huh?" The LSU Professor is staring at me from above his glasses, and when he looks at me like this, he is questioning me as a previous student of his.

"No, I don't want to be friends...The sex was too fucking awesome...."

The LSU Professor rolls his eyes at this.

"I mean, I want to be friends, okay? But I want to have..." I lower my voice because it's climbing, and the walls of the Science building are thin. "sex...too."

"So, you lied?" The LSU Professor is a genius at saying something without having it come out judgmental.

I cross my arms and avoid the question. "It was a test...You know women, they do these things." I also read a great relationship book that said: never ask a question that you don't want the answer to.

He gets up from his chair, and walks over to his small fridge. "Oh, yes, I know." He reaches for his ice tea.

"Besides, he wants to be friends." I put emphasis on the word "want," because the word itself has a double meaning. The word is lying, if I am lying.

Want is a slut though, but want is often the easiest to figure out.

I continue, "What I don't understand...no, really, I don't get this because this is how big my ego is..." I pause, and lower my voice again. "Why would you want to be friends when you can have sex with me? Why?" Every man should want to have sex with me, even if I've gained fifteen pounds, lost most of my conditioning, and cut my hair off. Why? I don't know. Men should just take sex when offered, and not complain.

"Because sex complicates things, even when it's good. You know this already. You have all those rules, right? Well..." He gives up. "What did I say? I said don't talk about it. Just stick to your plan. You're gonna finish out the year here unless something else better accepts you. That is your plan. Detriot in December, and you stay here until there's other opportunities. Now, you're not even going to Detriot because you blew that up." He's disappointed in me.

If I had come up with a reasonable, calm, rational solution to everything, then I would have had his acceptance. No, I was drunk. I lose points with the LSU Professor. "I threw some serious napalm on that shit." I admit.

"I've seen you drunk. You're another person, some evil alter-ego pops out." He dislikes this part of me; others have indulged me. "Remember? Things come out that you wouldn't otherwise see."

"I remember."

He bought me a few shots of GG. I leaned up against him the whole time at a physics major's party, embarrassing him slightly. He is a professor, and a professional after all. Students expect certain conduct out of their superiors. We spent the rest of the night at a cafe as he was sobering me up, and then he drove me home.

"What happened to the ol' [Jae] who put her nose in the books? What happened to her?" He asks me, almost pleading.

"I'm going to stay sober. I'm going to try. I can do it. I've done it before."

"Good." He nodds sharply.