Chapter 16

Darlene


“How’s the cramming going?” a female voice inquired.
Scot turned to see Darlene smiling at him.  Darlene was a dorm counselor in Fletcher Hall.  Fletcher was one of the five dorms in the Freshmen dorm complex.  It housed female freshmen.  The University required all freshmen, except commuters, to live in dorms.  There was a bigger demand for female living accommodations.  Probably that was due to parents opposing daughters making long commutes.  It certainly didn’t seem as if females outnumbered male students in the classrooms.
Darlene gave the appearance of a no nonsense sternness that would reassure most parents concerned that their daughters were away from home for the first time.  She acted very maturely even though she was only a couple years older than her residents in most cases.  She was attractive.  No strand of hair ever was out of place.  Her clothes never had a wrinkle.  She always wore dresses and they always were a proper length.  The demeanor that reassured most parents, however, repelled most potential suitors.
Scot suspected Darlene had seen Hazel drop him off and engage in the affectionate farewell.  Darlene had recommended a few of her “charges,” as she called them, as potential dates.  A couple wanted to lose their virginity and wanted an experienced man but didn’t want to trust a stranger they had picked up in a bar.  It puzzled Scot that someone who seemed so pure would do that.  Scot never questioned her about it.  He did not want the source to dry up.  Fate seemed to be throwing her at him repeatedly.  Perhaps he had no choice in the matter.
“I am far behind my study schedule,” Scot responded with sincere tribulation and quick decision to steer the conversation away from Hazel.
“Were you studying at the library last night?” Darlene queried in a manner closer to an interrogation of one of her residents than an interested or concerned friend.  Or was she teasing after having witnessed the departure of Hazel.   “I called a couple times last night, rather late, and you didn’t answer.  I thought you would be up late cramming as you usually are at his point in the quarter.”
Scot was flattered that she knew so many details about his routine.  It was more impressive since he really never developed a routine, or what could pass as a routine.  He looked for some clue that might indicate she was aware that he spent the night with Hazel.  Had one of Scots friends or dorm mates told her they had seen him leaving and driving away with some young lady?  Her facial expressions were unrevealing as usual.  He felt a glow of pride and satisfaction he was sure was shining like a street lamp on a moonless night.  “An old friend stopped by unexpectedly, and we went out to dinner,” he explained in terms as enigmatic and elusive as he could devise on the spur of the moment.  “I hope it wasn’t an emergency?”
“Not really.  One of my girls has a lot of problems, personal problems that involve the opposite sex.  She asks disturbing questions.  Her roommate thinks she might be reaching out for help.  I wanted an adult male perspective on the problem.  It’s not urgent.  I’m not even sure I should get involved.  It’s an issue that doesn’t fall under my job description.  We can discuss it next quarter.  I know you have a lot of studying to do, as do I.”
Darlene was an English major, so she always used proper grammar even when it sounded stilted.  In this area of the nation, that made her stand out even more.  It drove away another tier of potential suitors.  It often made Scot uncomfortable since he had the misfortune of growing up in Appalachia where natives specialized in killing small game and murdering the English language.  It wasn’t just number disagreement and noun-verb conflicts, but gross mispronunciations.   Natives of the area tackled the language-wide problem of the singular and plural “you” by saying “younz”.   Someone speculated that it was the contraction of “you ones.”  The South settled on “you all” contracted to “y’all.”  Parts of New England used “youse” eliminating an additional letter.  Darlene would have the answer, but Scot didn’t have the patience to hear it.  She would have multiple elaborations on the subject ending, undoubtedly,  with a demand for a national language police.  Scot spoke in constantly hesitating language as he doubled checked the gammer and number of each word.  The local dialect deviated from proper English so much that it almost qualified as another language.  Talking to Darlene was like being interrogated, in his mind.  Every word needed to be selected carefully.  On the plus side, Scot learned enough from her about proper English language   to impress some professors, or at least avoid prejudgement.
“You know, I need a good lunch before I start cramming,” Scot said.  “Want to join me in the cafeteria?”
“Sure.” she responded.  “Maybe I can give you a brief sketch of my problem.”
They walked through the lobby of Manchester Hall and turned left into the cafeteria.
“Hi Scot,” the cashier greeted in a bubbly voice.
“How are you today, Kathy?” Scot responded.  He knew Kathy from the previous year when he also worked in the cafeteria.  His promotion to assistant dorm counselor elevated him out of that dreary work.  Now he was paid more and did far less.  That seemed to be the norm for capitalism, he was leaning.  The less work you do, the higher your salary.  However, the cafeteria had the added advantage that he got to meet a lot of new people, especially the opposite sex.  The turnover was high, and it seemed that most students worked there sooner of later.  In the Cafeteria, he learned a lot that would help him in later jobs.  For instance, he always showed up and showed up on time or ahead of time.  That seems to be 70% of a manager’s concerns.  If you get a reputation for being reliable, the boss is inclined to tilt all other job evaluation criteria in you favor if they are borderline.
The dependable worker policy paid off well one summer when Scot went back to a prior employer to ask for a summer job.  The economy was slipping, especially at this company which made pottery.  The employer, who bent over backwards to help college students,  decided he could not afford to hire any temporary workers that year.  The personnel office told Scot it couldn’t hire that summer.  The personnel manager promised to put him on a list as available in case there was a change such as a large order from some restaurant chain.  When she opened his file, she found a note written by the previous summer’s boss giving a glowing evaluation.  Scot was put into a special category to be hired under any circumstances so he wouldn’t be picked up by some other company.  Scot spent the entire summer as the sole college student employed there.  The irony was that the prior year’s job had been so repetitious, tedious and boring that Scot kept asking for more work to do to make the time seem to pass more quickly.  He also had gone to work every day and arrived on time.  The new summer job was a breeze compared to the prior year.
Darlene and Scot selected trays from the stack of hundreds, studied the scant selection of foods, then proceeded to the most private table in the cavernous dining hall.
“One of my girls is a nymphomaniac, I’m convinced,” Darlene blurted out.  She took a bite of her salad and chewed it slowly.  She watched Scot’s face closely for any reaction.  “She told several girls that she plans to sleep with a different guy each week she is in college.   I was shocked by that, but that’s not the worst of it.  She’s into multiple partners.  Before the year is over, she told one girl, she intends to have sex with five guys at the same time.  She’s encountered physical hurdles regarding positions.  She asked several other girls what was the largest number of sex partners they had at the same time.  She was particularly concerned about sexual positions and if there were some she was unaware of.  She discusses it so nonchalantly.  She apparently believes she is normal, and every girl shares her desires but has been intimidated into suppressing those desires.  She even gave the plan a name.  She calls it her ‘Spring gang bang project.’  She considered turning it into some Kinseyian sex psychology experiment, but got no encouragement for that idea.”
Scot was entranced by the conversation and wondered why Darlene was telling him about it.  What advice was expected of him or was Darlene shopping for participants in the experiment?  The latter was unthinkable from what he knew about Darlene.  He couldn’t imagine that five guys at once could be physically possible.  He certainly would not participate in anything like that.  The thought frankly disgusted him.  He was purely monogamous.  However, he was more and more willing to listen to the problem even as his own hormones began shutting down the rational, cognitive sectors of his brain.
Darlene watched closely for any emotion or physical discomfort Scot might reveal discussing such an intimate topic.  It just wasn’t done among non-involved couples, and probably not among most involved couples.  “Have you heard any guys tell stories about that subject--or project?”
Scot had heard nothing more than two guys and one girl and dismissed that story as youthful bragging.  To him, sex should not be competition or a game seeking enshrinement in the world book of records.
Scot had trouble paying attention to Darlene.  He couldn’t get Hazel off his mind.  He wondered if she was into kinky sex.  She seemed totally uninhibited about sex and treated it as casually as any animal in the jungle would.  Would she jump into bed with some guy at the convention as readily as she did with him?  He hoped not.  Then he chastised himself for being so possessive after what almost certainly would be just a one-night stand.  He was not about to be faithful.  How could he expect her to be.  Had she ever had multiple sex partners, he wondered.  Would she agree to a tryst with say Scot and Darlene?  This wasn’t the first time Scot had imagined more intimate relationships with Darlene.  She covered up so much of her body, there was boundless mystery about her in the active young male mind.
Scot was proud of himself.  He was learning to treat women as equals.  His childhood and family environment had stressed a superior role for men.  At college, however, he frequently was accosted by “women’s libbers” who were self-appointed police scouring the land for “male chauvinist pigs.”  Every time he tried to be open minded and agree with them, the women’s libber police found some way to question his sincerity.  It was as if they were constantly coiled to pounce on any implication of female inferiority.
Darlene wasn’t one of the womens-libber police.  She was born and raised in Georgia.  She wanted the courtesies and niceties of the old gallant male relationships.  Scot felt she was unreachable for someone like him.  He did wonder why she seemed to seek him out frequently to discuss a wide variety of issues.  Was there a chance of something beyond friendship with her?  Did she at least want to experiment in the amorous areas?
“Well, I’m getting more reports about Ella,” she said.  “She’s certain that she is the norm, and has chosen to be one of the pioneers in the sexual liberation movement.  It’s like gay people who believe everyone has a gay self lurking inside them.  How often have you had an offer like that, if I may be so bold as to ask?”
“I’ve never had an offer directly like that,” Scot responded.  “A couple times, male friends have suggested that they know a lady who is interested in multiple sex partners.  I never explored that thought any further, so I don’t know if they were valid.  Of course, in Red Light Districts overseas, anything is possible if you have enough money.  I can’t imagine five guys simultaneously.  That seems physically impossible.”
 The subject and images, especially when discussed with a female, were exciting Scot’s hormones.  He felt like asking Darlene if she would like to experiment with some of Ella’s proposals, for educational purposes of course.  He lacked the courage to do that.  If this were a passing meeting, he probably would have done it.  But she would be in his life at least until the end of the school year, so he restrained himself.  The freshman dorm complex was small enough that negative allegations traveled fast and far.
“It’s really nice outside today,” he blurted out.  “Want to get a blanket and go up to Blanket Hill and sun bathe for a few minutes?”  The hormones had won out.  Blanket Hill was the poor students‘ Howard Johnson’s Motel.    There were almost as many blanket hills on campus as hotels in the HoJo chain.    Scot had no idea how many of these romantic refuges existed on campus.  There were two within five hundred feet of his dormitory.  One directly west and another north of the complex.
Scot also had learned in one of Marty's classes that taboo acts can be compromised if you chip away at them.  This works for individuals and whole nations.  If he could get Marlene to sunbathe on blanket hill today, he could get her to watch stars some evening, then more amorous acts after that.  Hitler vilified the Communists first since they were more alien to most people. Then, according to the Reverend Martin Niemuller, he expanded the vilification to trade-unionists, then minorities.  Scot intended to apply the theory to romance, mainly for research purposes, he told himself. Marty called this human frailty "Incremental corruption."
Darlene displayed no sign of surprise nor disgust that a pure Southern lady should express, nor did she accuse him of being a disgusting, male chauvinist pig.   “Don’t you need to study?” she asked calmly.
Scot found himself in a dilemma.  That usually was the result when his hormones dominated his thinking.  He had to study.  He was left in the dark as to what she would do about his offer to accompany him to Blanket Hill.  At least she didn’t dismiss the proposal as completely improper.  Possibly she believed the offer was made in jest.
“You’re absolutely right,” Scot said with determination, in his voice.  “I must go study, and let nothing interrupt me.  Farewell until next quarter,” he said, then turned and walked briskly toward his dorm.
Now Scot felt tantalized by Darlene.  Any relationship with her would be nothing more than an adventure.  He also could not imagine spending a lot of time with someone so prim and proper. Unfortunately, the suspense lingered in his mind for the remainder of the quarter.  His concentration was interrupted frequently.  He paid the price.  He got his only college “D” that quarter.  It was the only “D” in his college life.  Fortunately, it was in philosophy, a course of no known value in real life.
Philosophy didn’t make sense to Scot.  First of all, the professor was young and arrogant.  The test was essays.  The main question, worth 25% of the test, asked for a moral evaluation of one of the main religions of the world.  Scot argued that the European nations were the most evil because they constantly attempted to rule the world resorting to hideous brutality to do it.  Therefore, he concluded, Christianity was the most barbaric and savage.  He predicted that history would rate the United States and United Kingdom as the first and second most mad and evil nations of the second millennium.  Those two nations most consistently and nearly interminably remained at war slaughtering innocent people everywhere.  There was nothing so evil they would not do it.  They used chemical weapons, nuclear weapons, targeted civilian population centers murdering millions of women, children and babies.  Scot argued that Christianity had broken away from Jesus in the fourth century and followed the path of the brutal, savage, blood-thirsty practices of Roman Imperialism.  The professor didn’t agree and accused him of enthymematic argumentation.  Scot figured he might need another Philosophy course to figure out why he did so poorly in the first one.  He must remember to look up that concept, he told himself.
Scot’s grades were good enough for him to get accepted into graduate school.  The roller coaster of studying, part time jobs and endless temptations were taking their toll, however.  The job market was showing less promise as returning Vietnam Veterans gorged business employment offices.  Women opposing the war now felt a sense of political empowerment.  They were demanding at least as much consideration for all jobs as their men counterparts got.  Affirmative action laws recently passed required women and minorities get first consideration if they were equally qualified.
Scot was tired of living hand to mouth.  He wanted to get some financial security before he made his next move in life.  Right now, he had no idea what that could be.
Then a friend told him about a newspaper job that just opened up.  The newspaper needed Municipal Government Reporter who, ideally, was also qualified as a photographer.  Scot was the only applicant who met all the qualifications.  Thanks to a remote military assignment where there was little to do outside the workplace, he took up photography as a hobby.  All the equipment was supplied by the Air Force, so it was no expense.  That little hobby got him his first professional job.  Could it be that a temporary ancillary position, one he never considered, would become his career?  A few months earlier, Scot had had no prospects for a career he could really enjoy and get paid an adequate compensation.  Now he had two promising opportunities, journalism and graduate school.  He had only a few weeks to make a choice.  This would be his last opportunity to make a major career course choice.