The year was 1972, about four months since the Watergate break-in and just weeks before the presidential election between President Richard Nixon and George McGovern. Those of a certain age might recall listening to such Top 40 hits as "Saturday Night In The Park" (Chicago) and "Nights In White Satin" (Moody Blues) and watching "The Godfather" and "Deliverance" at the movies (and not on Netflix which didn't exist).
The fall of '72 was also a social downtime for two college guys looking to connect with a couple of college gals for fun and frolic. Ross Enzor and Marc Milner were the guys, both now over once "serious" relationships that had gone south and then dissolved. It was time to get serious again, or at least semi-serious. Both were ready, and it didn't matter the source of their would-be connection to these as yet unnamed and unknown young lasses, preferably hot or at least semi-hot.
Enter Ross' mom, whose close friend had a daughter that attended Dulaney College, an all-women's, liberal arts institution in suburban Baltimore. "She's cute, or so I've been told," Ross' mom said, referring to the daughter, a one, Judith Kaplan. Even though Judith lived in the area, she roomed on campus. Ross got her dorm phone number. Then, following a pleasant enough chat, they agreed to meet. Before hanging up, Judith said her dorm mate would also like to meet someone and wanted to know if Ross could bring a friend along. A grand idea, Ross thought, and he enlisted his good buddy Marc for the trip to Dulaney.
So, on a warm, early fall weekday evening, Ross and Marc, clad in what college kids normally wear, jeans, pullovers, sneakers, they entered the three-story stone pile that was Fletcher Hall, the girls' dorm, with the sort of nervous excitement one feels before a blind date. Well, more like a meet and greet than an actual date. Dates would come later if all went well.
Ross' talk with Judith gave him an idea of what to expect. He and Marc both knew that Dulaney girls were smart, as well as culturally and politically astute. They listened to jazz and classical music, watched foreign films and demonstrated for and against this cause and that. Many of them also went on to grad school. Neither Ross nor Marc was what you'd call intellectuals. Other than assigned reading for college, Marc devoured muscle and hi-fi magazines, with the occasional foray into Time and Newsweek. Ross subscribed to Oui and Playboy and Time. He also read books, all non-fiction and mainly medical stuff, reflecting his ambition to pursue the field.
"Let's just hope they're cute," Ross said as they approached the security desk and encountered a young woman who was anything but. Besides being at least twenty pounds overweight, she had short, curly dark hair, more fuzz than a female should have over her upper lip and a pug nose. And that voice, cold and authoritarian enough to make a drill sergeant proud.
Warily, she eyed her two visitors while she dialed Judith's room. "Two gentlemen are here to see you." After getting the okay, she nodded. Then, without saying another word, she abruptly flicked a fat arm in the air, scowled and pointed to the stairwell.
"That chick's gotta be a lesbian," Marc said, as he and Ross took the stairs to the second floor. "Some left wing, man hating, women's libber. We might be out of our element here."
"Stay positive," Ross said. "Judith didn't sound like that over the phone." He folded his slim, six-foot frame into a crouch, then added a look of mock horror to his bearded face.
Marc, gripping the stairway railing, doubled over in hysterics. Ross' shtick had been making Marc laugh from the time they met as freshman in high school. After recovering, he said, "Listen, if they look anything like that mama at the desk, we split upon contact. Got it?"
"What if one does and the other looks like Raquel Welch?"
"Then you take the mama," Marc said. Still laughing, they continued up the stairs.
They were pleasantly surprised to see that neither Judith nor her dorm mate Allison Michaels looked anything like that mama at the desk. Judith, per her reference, was indeed cute. She wore her light brown hair in the fashion of the day, long and parted in the middle. Her features, small and adorable, looked perfect on her face, her skin light and blemish-free. She wore no makeup save for a touch of eye shadow. Her snug fitting white jeans did justice to her figure, slim but shapely.
Allison looked like a throwback to an earlier time. Did college girls still wear plaid skirts and bobby-sox? Allison did, at least on this night, with brown loafers and a white blouse. Very preppy. She had dark brown hair, wore it with bangs that just reached her eyebrows. Her shoulder-length locks flipped at the ends, pushing her retro look back to the JFK administration. Aside from a few small zits, she also had nice skin, a shade short of olive. Red lipstick coated her wide mouth.
Marc thought she was pretty, and because Judith seemed "reserved" for Ross, Marc assumed he'd connect with Allison.
"Welcome to Dulaney," Judith said, meeting the would-be suitors in the hall. After perfunctory introductions, she then ushered them into her room, which seemed smaller than its twelve-feet by eleven, crammed as it was with furniture for two students. Posters lined the green painted cinder block walls—The Beatles, Cream, Miles Davis, Leonard Bernstein, Robert Redford, Michael Caine, et al. The girls sat on their beds, while Marc and Ross took the two desk chairs.
Allison leaned back against the wall next to her bed, hands in her lap, ankles crossed. "You two didn't have much trouble finding this place, I take it."
"Not at all," Ross said. "By the way, who's that snake charmer, that Brunnhilde at the security desk downstairs?"
Marc grinned. "Yeah, Miss all Sweetness and Light."
The girls glanced at each other and frowned. "Excuse me?! That's Gail," Judith snapped. "From your tone, I assume you guys are being sarcastic."
"Um, kind of," Ross said. He glanced at Marc who struggled not to laugh.
Not five minutes had passed and already an uneasy pall began to settle over the room.
