"Thursday Night Live"

Had it not been for the two drinks in July
rum/ginger ale/lime concoctions (aka the "Dark 'N Stormy")

Downed before my pal Jim
over for dinner that night--crispy pork bits on rice

Said, "So some of us were talking"
a gaggle of clackers at the college

"And we think you'd be a good co-chair for the division"
Liberal Arts & Sciences

I would not have had to use the bathroom
a damned place, for the toilet could hardly be bothered to flush

Where I had a few quiet moments to think
holding the handle down and down some more on the toilet, despairing of ever saying adieu to that paper

"I can't believe it, but I think I've reached a pivotal moment in my career"
after seventeen years of teaching writing to people who don't read

"Because I'm actually considering crap meetings as an alternative to working with quite so many students"
'tho some appreciative "A"-earners bring me truffles

"So this would seem to be a moment of tipping the balance"
for I would consider being admin's bitch preferable to grading my 11,307th comparison/contrast essay

The paper finally swirled away, and I'd made a choice
the least of which was to get a new toilet

Sure. I'd swap out 4 credits of teaching load each semester to feign interest in the running of the college
a choice that put me down to a mere 165 students in the Fall

And due to those rum drinks and the paper that wouldn't flush
we got a new toilet by the way, and I have named it Serge and gifted it with a sceptor

I was in a meeting last Thursday with my dean and co-chair
she of the natural sciences, the yang to my humanities-ish yin

It was a meeting that went on for an hour and a half
thanks to a gossipy aside about a vice president

Which meant that I didn't get back up to my office until after 4
still hadn't logged in to my online classes to read 142 messages about Tim O'Brien's TOMCAT IN LOVE and to grade 12 new Brief Summary Reports

Which meant that I didn't get out of my office until after 5
with a caffeine headache cracking my head open

In turn, I was then not on the treadmill at the Y
what? it was -12 outside

Until 5:30, and by the time I'd run and lifted weights and worked the abs
fat lot of good it does me

I really needed a shower
as a service to my public (yea, that's right "public," with an "l")

And once I'd showered
alongside a doctor who used to be in my yoga class and who used to be an anorectic but has tamed it to compulsive exercising

And dried my hair
what? it was -12 outside

It was nearly 7:30
Webkinz time at home for the kiddles; Groom logging in DinkoJunior, as Niblet gets hung up after typing the J-U

Sadly, I'd forgotten that the Holiday Inn parking ramp outside the Y locks the convenient door by that time of night
it's a questionable ramp at any hour

Which made me huff and stomp and head for the far-away entrance
which doesn't have stairs, so I had to take the elevator up one floor

But at least I got to review the Inn's lunch menu for the week, conveniently posted inside the elevator
potato soup on Wednesdays

And when I stepped outside the elevator, pushed through the door, and stepped into the poorly-lit concrete ramp
what was that, squishing under my feet?

I looked up in time to see a college-aged lad heading my way
not one of my students, Praise Plato, but he looked glassy-eyed and on his way to the next happy hour

Leading a man in a navy blazer
Dad buys the next round?

With a good haircut
recent

Distinctive frames
seen them before

"Hiiiii," my voice greeted him, familiarly, as I gave him a warm grin
I do that best with strangers

"Hello," he responded, seeming to think about relaxing his shivering posture and removing his hands from his pockets
what? it was -12 outside

As though he wanted to shake my hand, as though he was alert for further engagement
I do that best with strangers

But I kept walking
burning off 2 more calories

Until a beat later I realized my missed chance
if it's not a poo in the woods, it's a handshake in a parking ramp

To claim a minute with the man in the navy blazer
it was Al Franken

Full of shucks, all I could do was go home and mix up a Dark 'N Stormy
fitting tribute to the man who delivered "A Lime-O for the Lame-O"

And think about the impending pleasure of casting my airy American vote for Stuart Smalley
i'm good enough, i'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!