"We're starting our tenth year of teaching. Is that crazy or what?" Freddy said.
"More 'crazy' than 'or what," his friend and colleague, Dan, replied. "Just think. Only 30 more to go until until full retirement, right?"
"Gee, thanks. I had no idea this was one of those 'until death do us part' kind of things."
His friend laughed then said, "It's actually a pretty sweet gig. We only work 180 days a year, get ten weeks off in the summer and a week or two for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and spring break. What's not to like?"
"Yeah, no argument there. And we are surrounded by all kinds of hot pieces of ass, you know what I'm sayin'?"
He made a disgusting motion with his hips, and when his friend-since-college didn't even smile, he said, "Come on, man. There are some freakin' babes in high school, Danny Boy. Are you tellin' me you've never once—not even one time—thought about, you know, hittin' that?"
"Freddy? You're a pig and getting worse every day."
"Dude, I'm serious, so be honest. You've never, ever thought, 'Hmmm. If I could get away with it, I'd'..."
He'd tried singing the Bow Chicka Bow Bow song and Dan finally laughed.
"Stick to teaching history, okay. Your improv sucks."
"Okay, fine, but you still haven't answered my question. Have you ever once thought..."
"No. Never. Not even once, okay?" Dan said getting rather annoyed.
"Not even Jami Anderson? Come on, man! She was so hot she could have spontaneously combusted at any moment just standing there. Not even her?"
"No, Freddy. Not even her. She was a beautiful girl, but she's not my type. For that matter, no high school girl is my type and let me assure you, they're not yours, either. Got it?"
Freddy was Frederick J. Thomas, Daniel Snyder's onetime roommate as undergrads at the University of Washington where they'd both majored in secondary education.
"Not your type. Yeah, sure. Okay. So...do you even have a type? I mean, you no-shit have all kinds of hot female students crushing on you every year while their moms and other teachers are constantly hitting on you, too. Some of us would be happy to have just one out of three, and here you are with unlimited options yet I almost never see you going out. What's up with that?"
Dan laughed then said, "It's not even close to constantly, my friend."
Freddy snorted then said, "Yeah, I guess that's true. I mean, I have to admit I've never seen a woman hitting on you when you're sleeping or...droppin' a deuce."
Freddy paused then before Dan could chide him for being crass again then said, "Hell, I'd be happy to have anyone crushing on me. Student, mom...Ms. Emerson."
Dan smiled at the mention of Sarah Emerson, who was by far the best-looking female on staff. In fact, she was in a league of her own. Then again, people often said the same thing about Dan Snyder, and more than a few people thought they'd make the perfect couple and produce beautiful, perfect little babies. There was just one problem. Dan wasn't attracted to her in spite of her beauty.
Freddy finished his thought by saying, "Dude, do you know how long it's been since I got any puss..."
This time he stopped talking and sang it and did the hip thing. "Bow Chicka Bow Bow?"
"Freddy, Freddy, Freddy. What am I gonna do with you?" Dan said as she just shook his head.
Freddy started to answer so Dan cut him off.
"Don't say, 'Help me get laid, bro,' again—please. Tell you what. Let's go get you some beer so I don't have to listen to your nonsense anymore, okay?"
"Yeah! Now you're talkin', my man! First round's on you!"
"Just remember, some of us have to teach school tomorrow and go to school so don't expect me to get hammered with you."
"I don't get it, man. A master's cost a ton of money and it's worth what? Two grand a year before taxes? You might break even before you retire," Freddy said in his typical cynical way.
"I like math. What can I say? And yeah, I'll more than break even in the long run. In fact, I'll be graduating just before Christmas so put that on your calendar."
"Yes! Another excuse to drink!" Freddy proclaimed.
Dan grabbed his keys knowing he'd have maybe two glasses of draught beer while his friend would have—two pitchers—or more.
Before he let he go of the question in favor of beer, Freddy asked the same thing one more time on their way to their favorite watering hole.
"Seriously, man, what is your type? You rarely date and you never hook up. If I looked like you, I be gettin' laid seven days a week and twice on Sunday."
"No, you'd be in jail for a very long time," Dan said only half joking.
"You know what, Danster? If I didn't know better I'd think you were a little light in the loafers. You know what I'm sayin'?"
Dan did know. In fact, he knew all too well. He'd been called 'faggot' and 'boy toy' along with many other pejorative things, many times over the years. He was absolutely, 100% straight, but took no offense at being called gay because he knew people didn't choose their orientation any more than they chose to be right or left handed. It just happened.
He fully understood the reasons why some thought he really was 'light in the loafers.' He took great pride in the way he looked, and dressed in what many called a 'preppy' kind of way. His thick, dark hair was always neatly trimmed and nicely styled. He was habitually smooth-shaven, and wore very dressy, button-down shirts and/or sweaters which were always carefully paired with the right pants, belt, shoes and socks. He even got his nails professionally done once a month or so. So, yeah. The criticism was based on a crude stereotype, but if the loafers fit...
Beyond that, he really was incredibly handsome, and Freddy was right. Every year Mr. Snyder had a new crop of groupies who batted their eyes at him while many openly flirted. He was religiously friendly with all of them, but every girl understood that Mr. Daniel Snyder drew a no-kidding 'line in the sand' when it came to anything beyond friendliness. He was never mean or rude, but he made sure whoever tried crossing that line got firmly set back behind it.
Lastly, he was highly respected as one of the best teachers in the entire school. He taught one trigonometry class to sophomores as well as freshman geometry, but calculus and especially AP calculus, was his specialty.
He had this uncanny ability to explain complex topics in easy, understandable ways and he would use multiple approaches to explain something until everyone got it. In those rare cases where an individual student just couldn't get it, he would tutor them after school for as long as it took. Seeing the light finally come on was one of the things he most enjoyed about teaching.
At 32, he really didn't date too often, and that was just fine with him, because he really did have a type—both physically and intellectually. If the woman didn't fit his type in both areas, he wasn't interested no matter how beautiful she might be. To wit, one Sarah Emerson. In those rare cases where he saw someone who met his external requirements, he immediately showed an interest in her in order to see if she was his type intellectually.
Physically, thin was in. A woman almost couldn't be too thin. Very small breasts were a must, and soft, full, bee-stung lips were hugely important, as well. Beautiful, open eyes, high cheekbones, and long, soft, silky hair were equally necessary, but all that was for naught unless she also dressed in way that, as with him, said, "I take great pride in my appearance."
If that was perceived as overly picky or even snobbish there was nothing he could do about it. He liked what he liked and after nearly two decades of liking the same thing, it seemed hugely unlikely that would ever change.
The intellectual side of his ideal woman included intelligence, which was very important, but it was much more than that. She also had to have a certain kind of 'unstated sophistication' about her but she couldn't be pretentious. He looked for those things plus maturity, politeness, sweetness, and if she was maybe a bit on the shy side that was a huge plus. Confidence was fine but arrogance or being loudly-opinionated were deal breakers.
Dan was a logical, linear thinker so he knew that putting those kinds of limitations on 'the playing field' severely reduced the odds of ever finding a wife. Then again, he intended to marry once and for life and firmly believed that it was more than worth the wait to find the ideal woman.
So yes, he had a type, but he wasn't about to get into it with Freddy. Not now, not ever.
"How about we talk about you, Frederico," Dan said turning it back around on you. "I know your type is someone with breasts and a vagina, but don't you want to meet someone and settle down?"
For a brief moment, his normally-gregarious friend got serious.
"Yeah, of course I would. But I'm the Oscar to your Felix," he said using The Odd Couple analogy. "I'm...slovenly. Unsophisticated. Undisciplined. I'm a video game junky. I like beer—a lot. And let's face it. I look a lot more like Jack Klugman than Brad Pitt."
"Brad Pitt's in his 50's, my friend," Dan said trying to help his friend out.
"Yeah. No shit. And yet he still looks better than me."
Freddy rarely got down, but Dan knew he was right. He'd be a hard sell to any decent woman who didn't bring a whole lot of her own baggage with her. It was very likely Freddy would never get married or if he did, the relationship would be highly dysfunctional. He hated to think that way, but it was hard to imagine Fred Thomas ever snagging a nice-looking, normal kind of woman.
Four hours and four pitchers later, Dan helped his friend stagger out to the car.
"You're a good man, Danny Boy," Freddy said, his speech heavily slurred. "Hell, if I was a chick, I'd be in love with you, too."
"Uh-huh. Let's get you home, good buddy. Tomorrow is our first day back. Thank God it's a planning day without students," Dan said as he helped Freddy fall into the back seat.
In spite of a horrendous hangover, Freddy slogged through day one, and by the day after Labor Day, the first day of school and three working days later, both teachers were ready for their students.
The first day was always devoted to administrative details. Lockers had to be assigned, books had to be issued, class rules, grades, homework, and other expectations had to be discussed, and teachers needed time to learn new names and faces. Having taught math there for ten years, Dan knew most of the students from the previous years, but there were always a few new faces, and Dan genuinely enjoyed getting to know them and hearing their stories about where they'd grown up, gone to school, etc.
As always, there were numerous young co-eds saying, "Hi, Mr. Snyder!" much too enthusiastically. Their male counterparts all noticed and inevitably, one or two would have to say something.
