Taking Econ 1 -
On the first day of class, Esme and I sat next to each other in row 23 of the Econ 1 classroom. It was an unremarkable thing for two not very remarkable students to do in a stacked lecture hall in a seventy-five year old university building that had seen better days.
"Hi, I'm David Smith. "
"I'm Esme Phillips. Are you taking this for distribution requirements?"
"Yes. I see that we get the newest prof in the Econ Dept. Do you suppose that is good or bad?"
"Hard to say. But how would you like to go around with the name, Reginald Bourne-Jameson?"
"Just call me Reggie!" I smiled. Esme poked her elbow at me.
A very cultured English voice filled the room. "Good morning. I've been told that this is a very popular course because you have to take it for most undergraduate majors, and because my predecessor graded very high."
He let a long silence fill the room.
"I would like to suggest that we need to change that tradition. There are several good reasons, but I'll just point out one. College used to be cheap, but it isn't any more. There are a very few of you who are working your way through. For the rest, either your family or your bank is financing your time here. Do you hear that meter running? That little quiet ding, ding, ding? That's dollars flowing from you to the school, to this department, and even a few to me. I'm going to teach this course as though I cared about what you are paying. I hope that you will do me the honor of working hard and getting personal value from what you are paying."
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Esme at work with a charcoal pencil on a sketch pad. A very realistic likeness of Reggie was taking form.
I quickly wrote down on my pad, "Professor Bourne-Jameson asking for hard work in Econ 1."
I nudged her, "Nice. It needs a caption." I pointed to what I had written.
She carefully printed the caption at the bottom in a beautiful hand. Then looked up at me with questioning eyes.
I wrote, "Perfect. Can I buy it?"
Thus began a partnership that grew into something surprising and remarkable. During each class, Esme would draw the Professor and I would take the class notes while she sketched. It was my responsibility to come up with an appropriate caption. Usually we waited until he did or said something memorable and then I got the caption down and she built the sketch around the caption. Reggie had a wonderful collection of one-liners that made the caption easy on most days.
Starting with the students in the rows behind us, who could see the drawings taking shape, Esme had many admirers asking if they could buy one. She decided not to take money, but she did tell them, "This is only for you, you can't sell it."
One morning, Carol Cornellis, the editor of the student paper, came over and said, "Everyone is talking about your wonderful sketches of Professor Bourne-Jameson. Would you mind if I put one in the Daily? I think it would get a lot of attention."
Esme looked at me, and I looked at her. We shrugged. I said, "I guess not. It's just fun for us. Do you have to get his permission?"
"Technically no, he's a public figure and we are non-commercial. But if it is well received, I think we should ask him if we can print more. Ok?"
There was a take home midterm before the next class, which was very fortunate for Esme and me. We studied together and bombed the test. When the cartoon appeared in the Daily to great acclaim, Esme and I were in his course book with A's.
The next morning in class, Reggie was hysterically funny about manipulation of interest rates and sleazy banking practices. We had a great sketch and a great caption. But as he wrapped up the day's lecture, he said, "Would Esme and David please come down to the front? And please bring today's sketch."
We descended slowly, fearing the worst. Esme handed over the sketch, which he studied and then broke into a wide grin. "Excellent!" He turned it around so the class could see and the first row broke into applause.
Reggie said, "Not only are they good artists, Esme and David got A's on the midterm. What do you think class, should I sanction this foolishness for a while longer?"
Wild clapping. He turned to us, "There's your answer." Esme and I hugged. As everyone filed out, Reggie said, "Could I buy you lunch on Saturday? I'd like to talk some more about your project." We nodded and he said, "Watch for an email from me. I'll pick a place and time."
Later that day, Esme got a call from Carol, who said twenty other campus papers wanted to reprint the sketches. "There's not a lot of money involved. After our expenses, I could give you $500 for each one that is published and syndicated."
Esme was hopping up and down. "Carol, that's wonderful!" She filled her in on Professor Bourne-Jones' conversation with the class, and that we had a green light to continue.
As we walked out, I had my arm around Esme and said, "Do you suppose I could get a date with you sometime?"
She gave me a sidewise look and replied, "It took you long enough. Is there something wrong with me?"
I stammered around and finally said, "Esme, I'm just such a dope, could we go out somewhere and maybe you can teach me about dating?"
She pushed me into the alcove we were passing and put her hands on my shoulders. Slowly she leaned in and kissed me hard. I almost died, but her lips were so nice I didn't want to stop and kissed back.
"Hmm. You may have some potential. I am housesitting for my dad. Come at six tomorrow for dinner. Bring a nice bottle of white wine. Wear a short sleeved shirt, khakis, and moccasins." She took my phone and put the address in, along with phone numbers for her mobile and her dad's house.
That night I thought about the wine demand. She knew I would get carded at the liquor store. Must be some devious trick to see how resourceful I was. I checked in with the senior who was head of our frat house and he agreed. "Very devious. I'll send someone. Give me thirty bucks, that should cover a decent bottle of white."
Leaving nothing to chance, I left early on Friday afternoon and had to circle a couple of times before going up the driveway at one minute to six.
She was dressed for a casual date, with just enough makeup to bring out the highlights in her eyes and face. I was carefully inspected as we went inside and she showed the way to the kitchen. Tying on an apron, she pulled the chilled wine out of its sack and looked at the label. "Hmmm. Chateau Montelena. My dad would say you have good taste. It should go well with the shrimp fettuccini."
I was directed to sit while she poured us glasses of already opened wine and finished preparing the dinner. I was entranced and tongue tied.
She looked at me curiously, "Cat got your tongue? What do you suppose Reggie wants to talk about?"
I said, nervously, "Most junior professors are desperate to get a book contract. It's important for promotion and they need the money, too. What if he is thinking about something to get across the basics of Econ 1 and wants you to illustrate it for him?"
She turned the heat down on the shrimp sauce, sipped her wine and insinuated herself between my legs and the counter. She had perfume on and I was sinking fast. Before I knew what was happening, the tip of her tongue was tracing my lips and demanding entrance. Not many seconds later we were in a tight embrace and the kiss was to die for.
She stepped back and said, "Better. Much better. There is hope for you. And I like your idea about Reggie and his book. What can we do to get ready?"
"He is a British import, so probably wants his own approach to the material. There are a zillion Econ texts out there, so we need to help with a fresh approach."
I wrapped my arm around her and grasped a generous breast as firmly as I could. She pushed her behind into my crotch and said, "Practicing what you preach, are we?" I nibbled at the back of her neck and played with the stiff nipple under my fingers.
She whispered, "Your technique is crude, but I am warming up. Let's have dinner and work on Reggie's book some more."
I turned her around and kissed softly. "You are being awfully nice to me. What gives?"
She gave me a look and went on with serving the dinner. "You can take these to the patio table. And open the wine you brought."
