I met Pam in my junior year at college. She had taken the seat next to me on the first day of Managerial Economics. As far as meetings go it was not an auspicious one.
I glanced over at her when she sat down and that glance turned into a long appreciative look. She was a sexy looking ash blond, but what caught my attention were the long legs sticking out from under the short skirt and the pair of four inch 'come fuck me' heels on her feet. I have always been a leg man and high heels have always been a turn on for me. What my attention got me was a:
"What the fuck are you looking at asshole?"
That of course pissed me off and so I said, "If you are dumb enough to have to ask that question you obviously aren't smart enough to understand the answer."
Before it could go any farther Professor Smythe called the class to order. When class was over I was on my feet and rushing out the door. My next class was in ten minutes and Carlyle Hall was on the other side of the campus.
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At twelve I was sitting at a table in the Student Union cafeteria having lunch and reviewing my afternoon class schedule when my attention was pulled away from what I was reading by someone pulling out a chair and sitting down at my table. I looked up and saw that it was the leggy ash blond.
"Just what the fuck did you mean by your smart assed remark this morning?"
As they had in class her words and tone of voice got to me. I looked at my watch and said:
"It has been two hours and twenty minutes since I said it and you still haven't figured it out? Well I did say you were dumb and stupid didn't I."
She reached over, picked up my glass of water and tossed it in my face as she said "Fuckhead!" and then got up and stormed off.
Managerial Econ was a Monday/Thursday class and the next time I saw the ash blond was at the Thursday class. I waited in the hall until I saw her enter the classroom and take her seat and then I walked in and tipped the cup of water I was carrying so the water ran down the back of her neck. It got a predictable reaction and a "What the fuck?!!" out of her. I just smiled at her and said:
"Surely in one of your high school classes you must have learned of Newton's Third Law. That for every action there is an opposite and equal reaction? Or maybe you have heard the modern day equivalent. What goes around comes around."
"Fuckhead" she snarled as she got up to go to the girl's lavatory to dry off or whatever.
When she came back class was already in session and as she took her seat Professor Smythe said:
"Class starts at 9:05 Miss Stewart. I would appreciate it if you would be in your seat by then and not create a disruption by coming in late."
This got me a look from the ash blond (other than hearing Smythe call her Miss Stewart I still didn't know her name) that should have killed me on the spot. A glance or two during the class showed that she was still steaming and no doubt was waiting for the end of class so she could get at me, but the same as Monday as soon as class was over I was up and running to my next class.
As I hurried to class I was trying to make up my mind on whether or not to take lunch in the cafeteria. The odds were pretty damned good that Miss Stewart would be there expecting to see me or at least hoping to. Did I want another confrontation? Then I smiled as I realized that of course I did. I was getting a kick out of tweaking Miss Stewart's nose.
As I carried my tray to an empty table I looked around the room, but I didn't see the sexy ash blond, but that meant nothing as she could arrive at any minute. I chose a table close to the wall and sat in the chair that put my back to it so she couldn't sneak up on me. I was joined at the table, but not by Miss Stewart. Billy Neubert sat down across from me.
I'd known Billy for years. He had been my next door neighbor for years until his folks had moved. We reconnected on the football field in the tenth grade when my school played his school. He was a wide receiver and I was a middle line backer and I didn't know it was him when I tackled him. When I offered him a hand to help him up he said:
"Damn Rob; that ain't no way to treat an old friend."
After that we had kept in touch. He was a better receiver than I was a line backer and he was attending school on a full athletic scholarship while my way was being paid by a trust fund that my grandparents had set up when I was born. After Billy sat down he said:
"I saw Snake throw water in your face the other day and I heard that you got back at her today."
"Snake? Who is Snake?"
"That's the nickname we hung on Pam Stewart in high school."
"Why would you call her Snake?"
"Because she was like a snake in the grass. If you did anything to her that pissed her off she would lie in wait until she could strike back at you. I've seen her wait a year to get back at someone who pissed her off. Behaved like sugar and spice until she could get even. Just giving you a heads up bud. Keep an eye on her."
I didn't see Miss Stewart that day and guessed that it would be Monday before we crossed paths again.
I was wrong.
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I didn't belong to a fraternity because I didn't have the time. Summers, weekends and a couple of times a week I worked at my Uncle Mike's brake shop or on construction with my Uncle Jim. My parents had given me a car on my sixteenth birthday with the caveat that I was responsible for plates, insurance, upkeep, and of course that gas to make it move. That meant job.