I went to college, too, you know. And if there’s one thing I remember it’s that college is a place for experimenting.
I’m reminded of my good friend Melvin, and the nights we used to spend together in that dark, sterile biology lab. I was young, and not all that sure what I was doing. I would poke and prod, and enjoy watching Melvin’s responses. We both had no idea what it was we were hoping for, but we knew this was a step in the right direction.
The games we would play into the night were always so much fun. Melvin liked being on the receiving end. “Goalie,” I believe is the term.
He was a good guinea pig, and zapping him with electrodes was really what inspired me to go into the paper business in the first place.
While boys turn to math and science to fulfill themselves in college, women turn to lesbianism.
I decided I would need to keep a close eye on my Claire Bear, as always. But it would be difficult with her away in college and letting some strange woman into her life.
Fortunately, the first strange woman fell out of a window, providing the opportunity for a new strange women to step in.
“Wow, Mr. B,” my daughter’s new BFF said to me over dinner, “you have the coolest glasses. Does your optometrist own a time machine or something?”
I smiled and replied, “Thank you.”
The dinner was going very well. Both girls were enjoying the delicious yellow while I munched down some of the brownish green.
“Sometimes,” Gretchen began, “people can do things no normal person can do. Yep, learned that one in my bibliography class.”
“You mean biology?” I corrected her.
“Yes!” She went on, “I knew a girl that could wear bees as a bikini. And there was a girl that could throw up and stay thin. And there’s a girl that can sing an entire Madonna song without feeling like a whore. And there’s a girl that–“
“Do you have a point?” Claire interrupted rather rudely.
It was obvious to me something was up.
Gretchen replied, “No point, just saying it’s cool how people can have special talents.”
Was Gretchen hinting at Claire’s ability, I wondered? Or something worse? Lesbian innuendo, perhaps?
I called Claire out on it when Gretchen stepped away for a moment to go make herself thinner. “So, you two…” I said.
“Oh, my God! Dad, like, it wasn’t my fault. She just sort of found out, okay, but, like, seriously, please don’t killer her and stuff. I don’t need another, like, dead roomie.”
I agreed not to Haitian or kill Gretchen, out of respect for their budding relationship. Besides, something tells me that Gretchen is going to prove to be even more effective than the surveillance equipment I installed in my Claire Bear’s bears.
Let’s just say, I always have a plan.