Chapter 11 - An answer to Ruthie's question
The following day was Friday. As usual Mike did his morning trek to the Student Center to buy his normal cup of regular coffee. As usual, Ruthie was wearing her apron and little else: just a pair of old running shorts, a thin t-shirt, and her battered running shoes. Mike wondered how she withstood the walk from the dorm; because it was drizzling and the temperature outside was 48 degrees. It was obvious that she was not comfortable at all, because her skin was covered with goose-bumps and she looked pale. She admitted that she had gone outside without bothering to check the forecast, and upon getting out on the sidewalk she wanted to turn back and get a jacket, but did not want to deal with going back in the room where Shannon was still sleeping.
Mike resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but he had to ask. Ruthie was so afraid of Shannon that she wouldn't even go back into her room to get a jacket? She responded that she was not exactly afraid of Shannon, but that dealing with her was so stressful that she tried to have as little contact with "super-bitch" as possible. Mike handed over his jacket and insisted that she put it on. She looked very funny in the oversized garment, with the sleeves covering her hands and the waist extending past the bottom of her shorts, but at least she quit shivering.
"You're gonna have to keep a jacket or two at my room. If you get yourself sick that's not gonna do anyone any good."
Ruthie and Mike sat in the literature class together and had lunch together. Since the day was still very dreary and chilly, Ruthie had no desire to be outside and was planning to go to the library. Mike suggested his room instead. Ruthie hesitated for a moment, but her resistance quickly broke down. The thought of having a room to herself for an entire afternoon, with no interruptions, no roommate and no CD player, no one walking by...where she could sit at a desk or lie on a bed...where she could spread her books out and just study in peace...the temptation was too much for her. Finally she accepted Mike's offer and accompanied him to the room.
As soon as Mike was gone Ruthie locked the door and took off her clothes, which consisted of nothing more than pulling down her shorts and taking off her t-shirt. She pulled down the covers of the spare bed and spread out her books with the idea that she would spend her afternoon reading while lying down. However, Mike's window, which was high enough that no one outside could see into, proved too much of a temptation for her attention. She sat in the vacant chair and spent a few minutes just looking out at the campus and all the students below as they made their way to and from their classes. The silence of the room was delicious to a person who had been subjected to so much noise from her roommate and her friends. At that moment Ruthie hated Shannon all that much more, because she had a chance to experience the tranquility she was missing out on because of the presence of "super-bitch" in her life.
Ruthie had not realized it, but she was badly sleep-deprived. Typically she went to sleep around 11:00 pm or midnight and had to wake up at 4:30 to be at work by 5:00. The day's cold and dampness had affected her as well. Within a few minutes of sitting down at Mike's window she began nodding off. No problem...there's a bed right here, I'll just rest for a little bit and then get up and study. She rested alright...but living more than two months without adequate sleep finally caught up with her. She lay down without bothering to pull the sheet over herself, passed out, and remained sleeping with nothing to disturb her for the next five hours.
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That afternoon was another "pay dirt" day for Parking Officer # 036. Because it was chilly and drizzling, over a hundred students blissfully assumed that surely the "Parking Nazi" of lot Econ-A would not spend an afternoon standing out in the cold just to write tickets.
Wrong...Mike knew that precisely because it was a cold rainy day, he had the chance to drive home the message he had been trying to push on the parking meter violators over the past two weeks: that at no time, and under no circumstances, was lot Econ-A a free parking zone. In spite of the trouble he had keeping his ticketing machine and envelopes dry, he still managed to write nearly 300 tickets. Infuriated students returned to their cars and jerked off two or three tickets from their windshields. Several yelled things such as:
"It's fucking raining! Why are you out here? What's fucking wrong with you, goddamn Nazi?" ...to which Mike casually responded that the meters worked just as well in the rain as they did when it was sunny, and that as far as he knew, coins were water-proof.
As usual there was the roaring of engines and screeching of tires from infuriated students, but the lesson had been taught. Rain or no rain, there simply was no free parking in lot Econ-A. Assuming the weather was clear next week, the situation there would be under control, with the exception of a few die-hards whose cars eventually would have to be towed.
Mike's clothing was very wet when he returned his ticketing machine to the dispatcher. He was known as the fanatic of the Parking Department and his stats for Friday did not disappoint. He had written 265 tickets for the shift, slowed down only slightly by the rain and having to keep the machine and the ticketing supplies reasonably dry. No one else came even close to Mike's numbers: the best any of his co-workers had done that day was under 50 tickets. Only Mike Sinclair was stupid enough, or dedicated enough, to stand in the rain for five hours writing meter tickets.
Mike changed his shirt when he got off work, but that did him no good whatsoever because his jacket, pants, and shoes were soaked. He would be very happy to get back to his dorm room, take a hot shower, and put on dry clothes. He remembered that his...girlfriend?...was studying in his room. That presented him with a dilemma. He wondered if he should call ahead or knock to let her know that he was coming, but then decided against it. Ruthie knew full-well that his shift ended at 5:00 and that he'd be back no later than 5:30, the time they always went to dinner. The thought crossed his mind that she might be sleeping, and if so, it'd be better not to disturb her.