Fuck, Lindsay thought to herself. The professor knew she was standing there and refused to move.
“As I was saying Economics can initially be broken down into Macro and Micro. Seeing as this is a 101 class we’re going to make a very quick pass through both of those topics,” the professor stepped to the side and put his around Lindsay’s shoulders.
“What we’re going to learn about is how every decision that you make in life can ultimately be considered a financial one. The decision Miss…” the professor paused and looked at Lindsay.
Lindsay just stood there silently. Three seconds passed, five seconds, then ten. The professor looked at Lindsay and broke the silence, “This is where you say your name.” A low snicker rolled through the classroom.
“Hamilton,” Lindsay offered.
“Thank you. By the way you’re wet. Go sit there, in the front row,” Professor Dixon pointed to an empty seat.
“The decision that Miss Hamilton made was a costly decision for a few reasons. First, her hair is wet. It caused my arm to get wet and I will need to launder my shirt. How is this financial? Well, I will need to use some soap and water and run the washing machine. I will then need to dry my shirt, fold it, and put it away. I will also need to put on a different shirt. All of those actions ultimately cost money. It may only be a nickel for the soap and water but there are expenses involved in the wear and tear on the appliances and the electricity. Even the action of folding and putting my shirt away has a cost to it. It may not be completely obvious at first but what could I have done with that time, consult, write a book, take a second job?”
“You could just let it dry and launder your shirt during your normal wash cycle,” Lindsay softly said.
“You’re right but there is a period of time that I will be wet and uncomfortable. Second, Miss Hamilton entered the classroom late. Being late has an expense. What is the cost of those few minutes? There’s an actual monetary value that could be associated with it.”
“Three dollars and fifty cents,” Lindsay offered up with a frustrated look on her face.
“I said three dollars and fifty cents. That’s the approximate cost of those five minutes on a per person basis.”
“I’m making a few assumptions here but it’s like this. A semester is roughly sixteen weeks long. During those sixteen weeks we will meet three times for an hour each time or sixty minutes. That’s 2880 minutes. Divide the $2,000 cost of this class by the 2880 minutes and you get 69.4 cents per minutes. Multiply that by the five minutes that I was late and you get three dollars and forty seven cents. I’ve done a little bit of rounding so, $3.50,” Lindsay said without slowing.
Professor Dixon stood there staring at the pretty blonde coed sitting in the front row. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. Every year there was at least one student that walked into class late and every year he would put on the same demonstration. Normally the student would cower and ultimately try to melt into their seat but this one was different. She spoke up. She even engaged him in the dialog.
“Take out your textbooks and open to the Chapter 1,” Professor Dixon commanded and stepped up to the board. When he turned around he scanned the room looking for his victim and found her in the front row, Lindsay.
Professor Dixon looked directly at Lindsay and gestured toward her backpack, “Miss Hamilton? Your textbook. Please take it out. You do have one in that backpack don’t you?”
“How do you expect to follow along? Do you have a notebook to write down the words of economic wisdom I’m going to share with the class?”
“No, Sir. I’ve read the book.”
“You’ve read the book?”
“Yes, Sir.” Lindsay answered with her best ‘fuck you’ look on her face. Things were starting to go bad and she knew it.
“That’s nice. The idea behind having the book is that we can analyze it and better understand the concepts.”
“Sir, I’ve read the book. I have a good understanding of it.”
Professor Dixon smiled at the foolish freshman. There was always one that felt they were beyond the reach of the all powerful college professor.
“Sir, I’ve read all four releases of the book. You authored it and had it published each year for the last four years. Part 1 of the book is titled ‘Introduction to Macroeconomics’. It contains 4 chapters that deal with the history of economics and lightly talks about the principles of Macroeconomics. Part 2 deals with an Introduction to Microeconomics’,” Lindsay stated.
“There is a Forward where you’ve dedicated the book to a Professor Moriarty, who used to be a professor at UC Santa Barbara. You go on to thank your wife and children and the sacrifices they’ve made during the time it took you to write the book. You also thank…”
“Miss Hamilton!” Professor Dixon interrupted.
Lindsay stopped with her mouth still open. She did it, she had gone too far and she knew it.
“Thank you. I’m very aware of the what I wrote in the Forward and what I wrote in every other section of the book. Why don’t you keep quiet for the last few minutes of class and I’ll try and teach the rest of the students that haven’t read all four of my books. After that we can meet in my office and have a little talk. I’m in the staff office building. Room 1738. How does 4:00pm sound?”
“Yes, sir,” Lindsay answered.
“Miss Hamilton, humor me and write it down somewhere. Do you think you can find the staff office building?”
Lindsay looked at the student next to her and asked if she could borrow her pen. She wrote on her hand and handed the pen back.
“Yes, sir. I looked at the campus map,”
“Oh, you looked at the campus map. That’s wonderful,” Professor Dixon laughed. “Did you memorize it?”
Lindsay stared at Professor Dixon, “Yes, sir.”
“Well, I think that’s enough for today. Read Chapters 1 and 2 and be ready to discuss it. Maybe if we’re all really special like Miss Hamilton, we can all memorize what we read.”
All the students stood up and started moving toward the door. None of them made eye contact with either Lindsay or Professor Dixon. Lindsay picked up her backpack and waited for an opening in the line but no one let her in.
“Miss Hamilton,” Professor Dixon called.
Lindsay turned to find Professor Dixon standing near her, “Yes, sir.”
“4:00pm. Room 1738. Try not to be late.”
“Yes, sir. I have it right here,” Lindsay responded holding up her hand and turning toward the door.
Professor Dixon glanced at Lindsay’s hand and saw in bold black Sharpie, “JACKASS”
“Lindsay, I would like to talk with you. You available at 2:00, my office.” Lindsay glanced at her phone as Coach Teagan’s text message came in.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“We’ll talk at 2:00”
“OK” Lindsay responded. What the heck does Coach want? Lindsay wondered.
Lindsay walked into reception area of the Swimming offices promptly at 1:55. She let the receptionist know that she was there for a meeting with Coach Teagan and waited. The receptionist picked up the phone and softly announced into the phone the Lindsay was here and waiting.
“You may go in,” the receptionist told Lindsay.
As she walked into the Head Coach’s office, Kristen was walking out. Kristen gave a wide eyed glare at Lindsay as if trying to warn her about something.
“Kristen, can you please close the door,” Coach Teagan called out.
In her normal bubbly voice Lindsay blurted out, “Hi Coach, what’s up?”
“What did you think about practice this morning?”
“It was okay. It’s not as much distance as I’m used to but it’s early in the year, so it’s not a big deal.”
“Did you think we did enough technique and dry land work?”
Lindsay noticed a stark change in Coach Teagen’s demeanor from the time he recruited her to now. The friendly, jovial man she met months before was gone.
“Yeah, it was fine. Why?”
Coach Teagan ignored Lindsay’s question, “What about breakfast?”
“Umm, it was okay.” Lindsay started to think about Kristen’s wide eyed look as she walked in and the odd line of questions. What was this all about?
“So, I’ve been having an interesting day. After breakfast a number of the coaches talked to me about you. A few hours later Mike, you know Mike, the men’s captain, he talked to me,” Coach Teagan paused. “If everything is ‘Okay’ or ‘Fine’ why do you feel the need to disrupt my program?”
“What?” Lindsay asked with a confused look on her face. “Do you mean? Are you talking about Professor Dixon?”
“No, but what’s that matter with Professor Dixon?”
“It’s nothing. How am I a disruption to the program? What did I do?” Lindsay asked.
Coach Teagan smiled in a way that was less of a smile and more of a sarcastic smirk, “Why don’t you let me decide. What’s going on with Professor Dixon?”
“I was a few minutes late to his class and he was trying to ‘make an example’ out of me,” Lindsay said before proceeding to explain what happened.
“You’ve had a busy day. First you announce your sexual interests. Then your choice of what to do with a banana left nothing to the imagination. On top of that you piss off a professor on your first day of classes,” Coach Teagan paused and stared at Lindsay. “You know I don’t care if you want to talk about sex and blowjobs. It really doesn’t matter to me, but you could do it somewhere other than the cafeteria where 25 young men are within 10 feet of you are? According to Mike, he’s heard all sorts of interesting things in regards to your little banana display.”
Lindsay dipped her head slightly under Coach Teagan’s stare. No words came to her.
“I mean seriously. It’s the first day of classes. Couldn’t you at least wait a week. I hear all sorts of things during the course of a year. I’ve heard all sorts of things during my career but you are the first to ever cause me issues on the first day of classes. And on top of that, you’re a freshman. I expect problems from my seniors that are looking to just party and graduate. Normally my freshman as so nervous they don’t say a word. Instead you start talking about blowjobs and fucking in front of a room with the entire team in it.”
“ahhh, I’m sorry. I guess.”
“You are not to date any of the male swimmers. None of them. Heck for that matter. None of the women swimmer either. No one. If you have so much time for extracurricular activities maybe I need to ratchet up the workouts. Get out,” Coach Teagan pointed toward the door.
Lindsay jumped out of her seat and moved toward the door.
“Yes, sir,” Lindsay responded.
“Don’t be late to your appointment with Professor Dixon. I’ve heard he can be really hard on freshmen students.”
“Coach. I’m sorry about this. I didn’t mean to cause you any problems. You might want to looking into getting a blowjob. I’ve been told they’re great for relieving stress.” Lindsay broke out into a big smile and bit her lip.
Coach Teagan’s mouth dropped open and he stared at Lindsay. Lindsay waved and walked out the door and shut it behind her.
“LINDSAYYYYYY!” Coach Teagan yelled from the other side of the door.
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