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There at last came opportunity to speak with Dr. Allen in relative… - Dr. Holiday Wednesday
November 4th, 2007
01:07 am

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There at last came opportunity to speak with Dr. Allen in relative privacy, so I screwed up my courage, and approached her in the hall. I'm unused to bringing a conciliatory tone to my voice-- I know this speaks ill of me -- but I attempted such, and called to her. "Allen?"

As she turned, I clasped my hands together in supplication, while making no physical contact; I'm sure my pawing her is the last thing she desires. "Allen, I'm so sorry about that night," I said. "I've been haunted by it ever since."

Allen made a small, inquisitive sound, searching her thoughts. Then she nodded, as though, upon reflection, the liaison in question was of little concern. "No, not at all, Wednesday."

I was prepared to plead my case. Not to explain that I often respond to censure with sexual conquest, that would only make me appear deranged, but to declaim my weakness in such situations, and to plead ignorance of her travails with Hodgson. Her nonchalance was unexpected. "Ah. If that's how you feel."

Allen sighed with rue. "I had a lot to drink that night, but I'm a big girl, and I knew what I could expect." I nodded. After a calculated pause, she added, "I'm divorcing from Gary."

The surprise evoked by this revelation was amusing, I'm sure. "You're joking," I said, unblinking. Allen shook her head, her expression grave. My mind raced. I blurted, "But you should know I've already--" Got commitments, was what I intended to say, before she cut me off.

"Having sex with you really opened my eyes. It helped me see just how low I'd sunk, Wednesday. You, of all people." She wrinkled her nose, and shivered. "It's better he and I separate than allowing my behavior to get any more self-destructive."

My hands wrung, now in frustration. "Ah, glad I could help," I said, blank.

Allen dismissed this with a shake of her head. "I'd been turning it over in my mind a while, but it's so easy to let things go on like they are. You know what I mean? It's less trouble." She bit her lip.

I nodded, distracted. I was more than a little relieved Dr. Allen was not throwing herself at me in a fit of sublimated loathing. Allen scrutinized me, and asked, "Did you say something earlier?"

"No, nothing," I said, lying. "I imagined you were going to slap me." I chuckled.

"Well, I could do that if you'd like." And, sans further preamble, she drew her arm back and struck me across the face, knocking me off-balance. She did it hard, taking evident satisfaction. I should be unsurprised.

Allen massaged her hand. "Mmm. That felt really good." She smiled.

I palpated the stricken spot, rather dazed. "Yes, I suppose it did...."

"Have a good day, Wednesday," Allen said breezily, continuing on her way. The sound of her heels on the linoleum hushed, flattened with distance. I stood there a bit longer, while my wits returned.

I should like to confidently interpret this exchange as indicative of her disinterest. If only I could. (sigh) I really do not have space for another departmental romance, dear Diary.

And was she telling the truth, or having me on? I pondered whether Allen's husband would blame me for this turn of events. How could he learn of my involvement? Allen would never be so indiscreet, I'm sure. But I had to wonder. Not that this incited alarm in me. It is simply not physiologically possible to have terror struck into one's soul by the person who drives a Karman Ghia. It simply cannot happen. Were Freddy Krueger to manifest in one, all evil grin and flashing blades as he unfolded his horribly burn-scarred frame from his burbling, sunshine-orange clown car, he would very shortly withdraw in slump-shouldered, abject defeat, disregarded by all. Perhaps a student or two would quiz him for advice about getting into their degree courses, or a passing tailor would attempt to fit him for a tweed jacket with elbow patches, but nothing more.

But I make light of a serious turning point in a colleague's life, which is insensitive of me. I'm still a bit shocked by its suddenness, and my apparent culpability in this matter.

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From:xinjinmeng
Date:April 1st, 2008 02:17 pm (UTC)
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It always fascinates me how academics so often immerse themselves in shallow tawdriness, yet continue to put on airs about how shallow and tawdry everyone else is.
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From:doctorwednesday
Date:April 2nd, 2008 11:25 pm (UTC)
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I'm certain I have no idea what you mean by this....
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From:ff00ff
Date:April 1st, 2008 08:39 pm (UTC)
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Doctor Wednesday: common home-wrecker.
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From:doctorwednesday
Date:April 2nd, 2008 11:16 pm (UTC)
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I prefer to think of myself as 'scorched-earth marriage counselor'.
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From:ff00ff
Date:April 2nd, 2008 11:28 pm (UTC)
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Scorched-earth, you say? I would think its more likely to get soaked by your method.
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From:almostfine
Date:April 1st, 2008 11:50 pm (UTC)
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I've noticed that most relationships that collapse over infidelity have many more problems than just infidelity. I think all you did was show her what she was missing, that sex could be more than just mechanics and biology, and that there's more to life than just putting on a mask and playing a role.

Then again, what do I know? All of my relationships explode horribly at some point.

I don't know how Dr. Allen, or any female for that matter, can get by on high heels. I am on my feet all day in very comfortable boots, yet at the end of the day I have calluses and bloody sores from all the walking I do. Granted, not everyone spends eight hours a day working in an industrial facility, but still. I can't imagine anyone choosing to make their feet hurt just for attractiveness's sake.

But I'm an ugly little thing, so I don't understand the point of "attractive."
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From:doctorwednesday
Date:April 2nd, 2008 11:24 pm (UTC)
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Yes... the notion that I reintroduced her to the joys of wanton sex is a pleasing one, but also, too self-serving not to find suspect. Besides, she has her little boyfriend as well.

Though I cannot recall, I imagine Dr. Allen wore flats. Shoes with rubber soles are more sensible in this setting, but as I believe we've established, Allen is rather preoccupied with her appearance.
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From:almostfine
Date:April 2nd, 2008 11:31 pm (UTC)
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I'm certain there are many who would love for you to reintroduce them to the joys of wanton sex. Or introduce them.

Which little boyfriend are you referring to? The one she's dumping, or something else?

Odd, I could have /sworn/ I read that one of you was wearing heels. Tall as you are, I'd presume it wasn't you, I can only imagine you wearing heels for one of those photo shoots.

As much as I enjoy such photos, I do wonder why you, being so far advanced in the professional classes, choose to be photographed in such a lurid manner. Certainly not for the money...I wonder, are you just doing so to let the rest of us know exactly how far you've put your research to personal use?

That reminds me, do you do any...Freelance work? I could stand to use quite a bit of modification if I intend to ever get a date.
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From:regon
Date:April 3rd, 2008 11:01 am (UTC)
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There are time when you truly surprise me. When I think I have most things figured about individuals, something comes up that makes me have to recollect my observations and reevaluate.

I would put some ice on that hand-print across your cheek. As nice as puffy cheeks look, I don't think you really want another to get the proper look on both sides.
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