Chapter 12: A Fresh Start and A New Beginning

A week after I had completed my master’s program and had graduated, I received a call from Ginny’s dad. I had no idea how he got my phone number and was going to ask him when I next saw him. He was going to be in the area and wanted to have lunch with me. He chose a nice restaurant near the Interstate and said lunch would be on him. He also added not to worry, as it would be only him. At the agreed-upon time, I walked into the restaurant and saw him sitting at a table. He saw me and waved me over. After sitting down, a server brought me a menu to choose my luncheon choice. I went simple and ordered a club sandwich and chips with a soft drink. While waiting for our food to arrive, we made the usual small talk about the weather and what was going on in our lives.

After the food arrived, the conversation turned more serious. “So what are you planning on doing now since you completed your masters program? I mean, let us be serious here; you are going to enter the workforce for the first time. What are your plans?”

I knew he meant well, but the last thing I wanted was for Ginny to learn where I was heading off to. So I did what anyone else in my position would do: I lied. I lied my ass off. I told him I had some offers to do research and teach in the Boston area. Of course, that was completely bogus, but I did not want it to get back to his daughter, where I may end up. Then he did drop a bombshell.

“You know my wife and your mother have formed a friendship. They talk on a regular basis.”

That was how he got my phone number! Mom was the source; what else did she share with the enemy? After I am murdered and discovered in a ditch, whom should I blame? No one else but dear old, well-meaning mom. So if Ginny’s parents knew, then Ginny knew. This was not good.

This put me in a very bad position. If I told him to go to Boston and tell my mother to go to Seattle, things would not be good for me with my parents. The one thing they would not tolerate was a liar, and I was on my way to becoming one. This was not good—not good at all. I added, “If things don’t work out in Boston, I am open to other opportunities elsewhere.” Talk about tiptoeing through a minefield. He wished me luck.

Then he let me know he was resigning as college president, where he had been for the last twenty years. He felt it was time to enjoy life, and he and his wife planned on buying a diesel pusher RV and seeing the country. His retirement date was set for the end of the month.

I then asked the twenty-four million-dollar question. “What about Ginny?” I asked. “What are her plans once she graduates?”

“That is all up to Ginny,” he responded. “For twenty-two years, her mother and I have been her support. Now it is time for her to stand on her own two legs. She will either sink or swim on her own. I know it sounds callous. But she needs to make decisions for herself and be held accountable for her actions. God knows she has not had to up until now. Her mother and I coddled her her whole life, and it is coming back to haunt us all now.”

“Have you told her this yet?, I asked. “She doesn’t do well handling things out of her comfort zone. We both know that.”

“That was part of the reason I wanted to speak with you,” he answered. “I wanted to check to see if there was even a remote chance of you and her getting back together. She needs a stabilizing force in her life. I cannot think of a more solid rock. Without you in her life, she will flounder.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” I said. “But there is not a snowball’s chance in hell that I am letting her back into my life. I know she is your daughter, but she is oil in my water. We do not mix, and there is no reason to try that experiment again. It is a proven fact of nature.”

Our lunch meeting ended, and he paid the tab, and I left the tip. We each wished each other well and parted ways, going our own way.

Ginny’s parents retirement hastened my decision to leave. I packed up and headed for the hills. I rented a moving truck and a trailer for my car and headed out as soon as I could. So I would not be lying; I called them the night before I left. I said I was heading east in the morning, and I would get back with them in a couple of days on the road. I could hear the tears my mother was shedding over the phone as she and my dad wished me luck on my new start in life.

At 4 AM, I woke up and prepared to leave on my journey. That last night, I slept on the floor of my old apartment in my sleeping bag. I pushed myself and was out the door for the last time before 5 AM. I locked the door and put the keys in the mailbox, as instructed by the property owner. I hope that I will get my security deposit back.

Driving a rental truck behind a trailer is not for the faint of heart. It took over two hours until I felt secure in my driving abilities. An hour into my journey, I came to the interstate I would take south. Then I would meet up with the interstate I planned to take west to the Pacific Coast. I did not lie; I did head east for part of my journey. Before jumping on the interstate to head south, I stopped at a McDonald’s and had a big breakfast. It may not have been the best thing for me, but it was cheap and filling. I figured I would stop later and get something better to eat when I stopped for gas. Getting in and out of the McDonald’s parking lot was tricky, but I did it without hitting anything or anyone. Once on the interstate, I set the cruise control, steered, and watched the scenery pass by. I did this for the next five days until I hit the coast. At night, I would stop at the rest stops along the interstate and curl up on the truck’s bench seat. It was not comfortable in the least, but it was the right price. Free!

When I arrived at my destination, I called my contact, and they met me at the parking lot where we agreed to meet. I apologized for my appearance, but they understood. They were glad I had decided to take the position offered to me earlier that spring. They interviewed me on campus at my former university. I had agreed to an instructor’s position at a small west coast liberal arts college. I would teach an entry-level computer class and statistical analysis. Since I had a working knowledge of SPSS, it was an ideal position for me. Along with a decent salary, I had an apartment in the faculty court on campus. The only thing I would be responsible for would be my utilities and my living expenses. I could even eat at the college’s cafeteria for a reduced fee. For my first job, I had won the lottery. I received a decent salary, a nice apartment, cheap food, and a twenty-minute drive to the beach. How could one beat that?

It took me a week to settle in on campus. First, I had to unload the truck and carry everything into the apartment. I found a fraternity house not far from the faculty apartment complex. And I started a conversation with guys I saw loafing out in front. I negotiated with them about helping me move into the apartment. The final cost to me was four cases of beer and three extra-large pizzas. In a little over two hours, the truck was empty, and everything was carried to my apartment. The frat members were good people; they invited me over some night to watch baseball with them. We would become fast friends. When it came time to turn in the truck and trailer, I had one of them I trusted to follow me to the rental place in my car. I knew soon that I would be an honorary member if this kept up.

The next morning, after sleeping in my own bed for the first time in over a week, I cleaned up and put on decent clothes. I walked over to the science building to introduce myself. It must be a universal truth; my colleagues in the math department were as humorous as a room full of morticians. The university where I earned my Masters was the same. I received a key to an unused office that needed a serious airing out to get rid of the musty mold smell. They had building maintenance come in and give it a good once-over before I moved my things into it.

Two days later, we had our first faculty meeting for the year, and it was as exciting as watching concrete cure. In total, there were five instructors and two office assistants. I swear the office assistant assigned to me dated Euclid in her youth. She was ancient, but she did her job well, and she was kind and respectful to me, the new kid on the block. That was how I started my first year as an instructor of computer science and statistics.

My first day in class was interesting. I had forty students; the class roll said 38 men and 2 women. Eight AM, looking over the faces of the students, I could not identify the female students from the males. They did a great job with the unisex look. When the bell sounded for my 9 AM class, no one moved; it was the same students for that class too. I could tell this was going to be a wonderful semester. After going over the syllabus, I asked if there were any questions. No hands showed, so I dismissed them early and said I would see them for our next class session. I went back to my office, unboxed my books, and looked over the paperwork the administration had sent for me to fill out. It all had to do with HR paperwork. There was a 2-page handout about what a proper student-instructor interaction was. It looked like I would not be going to the frat house of my friends. At least not if I wanted to keep this job.

I went to the faculty dining room during lunch. I learned there was no need to show cash. The cost of a meal came from paycheck. It sounded like a decent way of doing things. The food I could select from looked like your typical college cafeteria fare. Edible but not gourmet. After I made my selections, I went to the table to sit down and introduce myself to my fellow faculty. Being a junior member of the club, they accepted and tolerated me, but that was all. Being the youngest one, I would have fared better if I had chosen to eat in the other dining room with the students.

I stayed in my office until mid-afternoon in case I had any students that wanted to add or drop my classes. I felt like the Maytag Man, the loneliest person in town. At three PM., I had enough and left my office for the day. I walked back to my apartment and decided I needed to go running to clear my head and keep in shape. This was the west coast, by gosh; no fatties here. I changed into my running gear. Out in front, I stretched and then took off at a moderate pace through campus. I guess I had not put on too much weight because I received a lot of admiring looks. Another boost for my ego.

After my run around campus, I decided to shower, get dressed, go out, and experience the local nightlife. I drove a couple of blocks off campus and found a nice pub. I parked in the pub’s lot and went in. It turned out I found a nice neighborhood watering hole. They had beer on tap, the hard stuff, and a decent selection of bar food. I saw fish and chips were on the menu, so I ordered that. It turned out I ordered the specialty of the house. The fish was fresh, and the chips were not frozen but hand-cut. I added malt vinegar to the meal, and I was eating some excellent food. I paid my tab after eating. I was leaving when I heard someone call my name. Turning around, I saw it was my fraternity friends out for a night with their girl friends. They had wanted to invite me to an off-campus BBQ that weekend. I told them I had read the memo that afternoon about faculty-student socializing. They said to come anyway because the BBQ was at a faculty member’s home. It was a regular event, and everyone would be there.