Dorm Discipline: House Service

We see Kitty's sister arrive, fit in. Fall Fling is planned. Preppy meets Hippie Bitch again, resolves that. GG needs more attention. Slut has an insight. Tuesday Night, clit night.

"Hey, um, Hippie! This is Dick, from Meta Mu!"

"You can say it; it's ok." She spoke in a resonant musical voice, sounded amused.

I braced myself, started over. "Ok. Hippie Bitch? This is Dick. I'm the latest RA here, we talked earlier? The Dean suggested we get together, share RA notes and ideas, maybe coordinate Fall Fling activities?"

"That's interesting. This is a new house, with no traditions. And not a lot of resources. What kind of activities do you envision?"

"I understand if you are hesitant. I'm not sure what to expect; I've never been to Fall Fling. I'm a post-graduate researcher with no social life." As long as we were being honest, laying our cards on the table.

That got a chuckle out of her. "That can't have lasted long, not at Meta Mu. Those women are amazing, frustrating, brilliant students, with interests at every level."

"I'm learning that! So far, so good, I'm happy here. Made some friends, had some hiccups. I'm thinking of bringing a house member over, maybe this week? Meeting with you and whomever you nominate, talk about what we could do together?"

She didn't answer immediately. Good. Thinking it over.

"What is your goal in this?"

Good question. "As an RA my goal is health and safety, and academic progress. Only those first two would apply here, to a festival.

"Personally though, I'm looking to work out some of the kinks that have..."

"Festered, is the word you may be looking for?" She was not going to make this easy.

"Ok. Your package did a lot to reset thinking around here. Your weaving is hanging on our front door, not my doing, GG did that. To remind us all to be our best selves. Your letter was well received, made folks rethink a lot of things."

I heard a long breath; was she as nervous about this process as I was?

"I'm glad to hear that. Good for GG, she's really a great person, I'd like to get to know her better."

"The Dean actually suggested, um, someone else to be liaison on this."

Another pause, not a good one. "Preppy, of course. The Dean would choose her. Only Nixon could go to China, as they say."

My turn to laugh. "You may find her a different person this time around. She was the... most affected by your sincere gift. You'd have to take her as you find her of course. But she's changed at any rate."

No comment on that; fair enough, she'd have to make up her own mind.

"I can talk to my house, see if there's any interest. I can't even guess what response I'll get. My folks have had various experiences in the general University population. Will they want to make an impression, become examples to the student body?

"Or will they say Fuck It, let them throw their own parties."

I agreed, that was a reasonable response. "I'm thinking of it this way. We can help make the experience safe and interesting for the general student body. While exposing them to alternate lifestyles, different life choices. Maybe help ourselves, while we're helping others."

"Good slant; but my people are smart, maybe as smart as yours. Any BS, any whitewashing, they'll smell it. They've heard it all."

"I can't tell you how others will respond. I'm personally open to all lifestyles as long as they are consensual, not unhealthy, and safe. By unhealthy I mean no bodily injuries nor hatred. Good vibes all around."

She drew a long breath, bracing herself.

"I'll get back to you, maybe tomorrow? Thanks for calling; I have a lot to talk about over here."

She broke the connection without another word. Not big on pleasantries. Noted.

Now to broach the topic with Preppy.

"Hey!"

She didn't look up from making a sandwich. "Hey."

"I'm, um, going over to that new house maybe this week. Check in with the new RA, compare notes."

Absently, "Um hm..." Slicing a tomato.

"So, um, the Dean suggested we get them involved in the Fall Fling, planning, stuff like that."

She looked up, curious. "What new house?" Dawning comprehension.

"Oh, no. I'm ... no."

"Nothing definite yet; she's talking with her people, see if there's any interest."

Plating the sandwich, shove the ingredients back in the fridge.

"Take GG. She's into that stuff."

"Dean suggested you." There, all my cards on the table.

She tried to leave the kitchen, she really tried. Carrying her plate, breezing to the door, almost broke the plane before her step faltered.

Playing the Dean card was not fair, but I was in a bind too. Apparently Preppy had similar compunctions where the Dean was concerned.

She stopped, shoulders down, closed her eyes, took a deep breath.

Finally, "For her. The Dean. Not for you; not for ... that other RA. Understood?"

I nodded like an idiot, showing I had basic understanding skills.

"I'll let you know when. If it even happens. Thanks!" Keep it short, now that I had consent don't overplay it, stop talking.

The phone rang that evening. I answered, sure of who it would be.

"Hey! Meta Mu, Dick here."

"Hi Dick! So, my people are interested. Go figure, right? Monday afternoon? I can have a quorum, meet with you and your Liaison, have a Q&A, figure this thing out. Ok?"

I nodded, remembered I was on the phone, "Sure! I think that works for us. See you say 11:30?"

All good, signed off. Got a Goodbye! this time. Better! A positive attitude. I was pretty sure Hippy Bitch faced everything with a positive attitude if at all possible. Her psychology training would tell her that was important.

I could take a lesson. I was frankly dreading this, like a dentist appointment. It was sure to start out tense, and from there who knows. But communication was the beginning of reconciliation! It all started with talking.

Preppy took the news stoically, just nodded curtly. Best I could hope for.

Monday

Preppy was available. Her interview had gotten cancelled for a business outreach, no excuses left, she had two hours Monday, right in our window.

Butch insisted on going. The Fall Fling was a big deal to her apparently. She'd been involved since her first year, in the 'security' area whatever that meant.

Preppy was relieved. I imagined having Butch to buffer any unpleasantness helped her feel more secure. And knowing Butch had her back was comforting.

We walked over; quite a hike! Clear across campus, into the woods, down a marginal road a quarter mile to a sort of ranger-camp. It had been lots of things, including visiting-professor housing.

And now it was a house for the Dean's special cases, her outliers that needed a safe place to thrive in the University. Like Meta Mu, but weirder if that's possible.

The new occupation showed - flowerbeds planted, some new paint, windows washed, a couple old vehicles parked here and there. I'd only seen the place in passing before, empty, neglected and sad.

Now it was very pleasant! Hippie Bitch was out front, talking with another woman. Both were dressed in peasant dresses, barefoot, flower in the hair, very new-age. Preppy snorted when she saw but held her tongue.

I don't know what she had to feel superior about. She was dressed in a suit and tie despite the rural setting. I had on board shorts and a t-shirt that said 'Aloha!' And Butch. Well, Butch. Leather bike pants, worn leather half-boots, wife-beater t-shirt, leather biker hat with rivets and an eagle embroidered on the front.

Butch was oblivious to any tension, hailed the women from a distance with a wave and a smile.

We arrived. "Meta Mu folk, this is Witch Woman! Witch Woman, this is Butch, Preppy and I presume Dick!"

I nodded, held out my hand. Witch Woman took it gently, turned it palm up, looked at it, then stroked it with two fingers. Felt intimate, provocative! Probably intended it to.

"I'm glad to meet you! You look honest and empathetic." All from palm-reading?

"I like what you've done with the place!"

They turned, surveyed their houses with evident satisfaction.

"Physical Plant was glad to lend us paint, tools. Grateful for anything we'd do on the old place. Yeah it's looking pretty good."

"Come around back! Let me show you my gardens!" Witch Woman was gleeful, flitted off. Hippie Bitch looked after her tolerantly.

"Not a lot of attention span in that one. But Goddess! she gets a lot done.

"Come along back, we have some patio furniture back there, something to drink."

Sounded good to all of us. Butch led the way, talking about the team, their prospects, the likelihood of a win on Fall Fling day.

Preppy lagged, clearly not enthusiastic. Her pumps weren't quite up to the softer ground either; she picked her way along the old broken sidewalk, trying not to sink in.

The back yard was a riot. Garden beds planted in a confusion of things, mostly looking like weeds. Also some was actually weed, the aromatic kind. Origin of Butch's bud?

Flowers planted here and there, no obvious pattern. A fire ring, enormous! Clearly a popular deal, from the ash piled, the split wood stacked head-high between two oaks.

Some worn wicker chairs were arrayed around a wood table, not meant for outdoor use but holding up ok, water-stained and warped a little.

A pitcher of murky amber liquid in pride of place on a tarnished tray, some odd collection of mason jars and chipped coffee cups set out. Witch Woman was pouring, muttering, sprinkling something into each cup from a packet in her hand.

I raised an eyebrow. Hippie Bitch just shrugged, grinned.

I sat, Butch sat, Preppy perched on the edge of a chair, uncomfortable, ready to flee.

Witch Woman picked up a cup, offered it to Butch, watched her drink, smile. I got one, sipped to be polite. Sharp, astringent, aromatic - nice! Not lemonade but somehow satisfying.

Preppy declined the offered cup, got a sad face in return. I let it happen; not my place to tell any of them how to feel.

"So what's this big event? Some of the residents have been; I haven't. I just get confused reports. Like blind philosophers describing an elephant, each experience is apparently quite different? All involving a bonfire?"

Butch launched in, a topic dear to her heart. Described the huge bonfire, built by the Engineering school, two stories tall, whole tree trunks involved, flames sixty feet high.

She then described the music - some local groups, nothing organized, the stage was the trailer that brought the wood. All acoustic; no electronics allowed! Just line up and take your turn.

Then the theatre aspect - minstrels, fortune tellers, spirits, macabre dancers. Some wandering, some with tents they set up, make-shift theatres roped off between trees. Spontaneous sing-alongs. Sweets and drinks, some fundraisers for School or Community causes, some free. The local grocer was a big University supporter, donated a dozen large coolers of local craft beer and soft drinks, free.

Witch Woman was getting excited. "Can anyone be part of that? Could I, uh, bring my own drinks? Incense to share at the fire?"

Butch nodded assent. "None of it is organized! That's the great part! It's every school, every department, every house for themselves! And brutally inclusive. Every league, alliance, club on campus does something."

Hippie Bitch looked confused. "Then what's our part? Not organizers; then what?"

Preppy spoke for the first time. "We're there to make sure everybody has a good time."

All heads turned to her; it was the first words she'd spoken. She looked stubborn, continued. "Folks can get wild; folks can get dehydrated, low blood sugar; folks can get careless. Some guys get aggressive, need some cooling-off. The fire is dangerous, later in the night folks can try stupid things."

Hippie Bitch was getting it. "So we monitor auras? Look out for dehydrated people, loud people, restore their balance, redirect their energy?"

Preppy wouldn't have said it that way. "If you mean, hand out water bottles and condoms, and collar wild freshmen then yes."

"I'm concerned about the security aspect. Is it campus police doing it? Are folks hauled off if they cross the line?"

Butch was the expert on this. "I've got a crew of buds, we take care of most of it. Unless somebody is seriously blasted, in need of serious medical aid or gets violent, we handle it."

Some dubious looks, not sure how that would work.

"The campus cops are there keeping randos from crashing our party. They turn a blind eye to anything but immediate safety hazards. Fire out of control; fights. Me and Treetop, Slash, Roadkill handle everything else. Watch the fire, keep kids from running around with it. Collar the kids before they hurt themselves, mellow them out."

That sounded better. Witch Woman was curious about Butch's friends but held her questions. Those were probably from the biker bar? I'd have to ask about them later, but I trusted Butch for now. With those names they sounded ... effective.

"Meta Mu has some particular activities beyond security." Preppy again, in lecture mode. "Kitty distributes mini water bottles to revelers, flitting around like a dryad, in costume. Peeks under blankets, into tents, makes sure everybody is drinking, consenting and happy. She's so fey and inoffensive nobody minds!

"GG was all about condoms last year, from 'regular' which means small, guys are touchy about that, up to Magnum. Student health provides them. She can tell the size of a guy's dick from a glance! Give them something that fits the first time."

That was impressive. A neat party trick!

"I manage a first-aid tent. Donations for the women's' center, but nobody is turned away. Burns, cuts on feet from the wood chips everywhere, contraceptives. Lotion for rug burn, chafing. Sanitary napkins. Douche and sunscreen. Examine for ticks. Made a couple hundred last year from donations."

"What gaps do you foresee?" This from Hippie Bitch, attentive and respectful. Preppy was gaining confidence, answered her without any hesitation.

"The theatre department had brought blankets from housekeeping, pads from the gymnasium, rented them for the night, a couple bucks each, for their program. But they got a big donation recently,"

That was Kitty's father, throwing his weight around.

"So they've indicated they won't be doing that this year. You have a favorite cause, any connections with housekeeping or the gymnastic program, you could take that over?"

Witch Woman interjected "Dan! They tumble; that's why they're so flexible." She smiled to herself at that, some intimate knowledge? "Maybe they could do mats! And HB, what about Manny? He has a job in custodial services?"

Hippie Bitch (HB?) nodded, "We'll have to ask, see if they have a cause they'd like to support! Do two good turns in one night!"

Butch agreed. "That's kind of our whole thing. Do good for the student body, while doing good elsewhere. My thing is outreach for gay bikers. Folks meet me and my buds, get to know us, they smile when we meet around campus on our bikes. More aware of bikers, keep the roads safer for everybody."

HB leaned back, drained her glass. "I think this could very much be our thing. So far we've just retreated from the University life, kept to ourselves, licked our wounds and kept apart. But we have lots to offer! I want us to start being seen."

They were hooked, it was obvious. Such a constructive, healthy contribution was right up their alley!

Butch smiled. "Loud and proud! That's the idea! All of us being our true selves, without reservation. You do something for somebody, they have a hard time not being grateful, glad to see you next time."

"I'll hit up Lacy, see if they have some ideas. Costumes, roleplaying are their thing. They could work that in somehow?"

I suggested "Maybe Kitty could brainstorm with them, come up with a theme?"

Everybody was relaxed now. Maybe that tea? Who knows, but we were seeming more like a team.

I thought it was maybe enough for now. "We've come a long way today. There's weeks to go! Can we meet again, say twice a week? Encourage each other; share ideas; fill in with knowledge and skills where needed?"

The table was in agreement. We chose this same time slot, plus a Thursday morning hour, meet with whomever was available, compare notes.

Witch Woman began clearing the table. Butch had to be somewhere, shook hands, headed out. Leaving me, Preppy and HB.

I cleared my throat. "If there's more to be said, some water under the bridge to mop up, I can, well, make myself scarce for a bit. I'd like to compare notes RA to RA, but that can wait."

"Stay!" HB and Preppy simultaneously, emphatically. So I stayed.

HB tried to begin, but Preppy cut her off.

"Hippie Bitch! I want to apologize for being a first-class asshole. There wasn't anything in my treatment of you, that I can remember without shame. I was self-centered, sensitive and petty. I wish it had never happened."

HB was stunned, everything she'd prepared to say forgotten. She stood, her chair falling over, went around, pulled Preppy into a hug. She was resistant at first, but suddenly melted, hugged her fiercely back.

It took a long time; a lot to hug out. When they separated Preppy was in tears, wet-faced and red. She tried to speak, stopped, tried again.

"It wasn't you; it was never you. I was triggered by something that happened. Nothing you need to apologize for; you're entitled to be you. But I wasn't ready for it; I was still hurting from something, surprised by how it much it still hurt. And when that button got pressed I lashed out."

HB was just shaking her head, not sure what it was but clearly upset by her part in it. "I could have asked you; I should have talked to you. I didn't. I knew you were upset, but I kept bleating out my personal vision without considering..."

Preppy wiped her face with the back of her hand. "Nobody's telepathic. Well, Dick is, sometimes. But just him. Not me, for sure."

"Tell me about it." HB braced herself, was ready for whatever Preppy wanted to dish out.

She was hesitant, then made up her mind. "I wasn't raised in a normal house. I was a foster kid, with all that means." She looked at me, shamefaced, I don't know why. No censure here! I nodded, encouraged her.

"I've been made to fit into somebody else's life, all my life. Never anything for me; never any consideration for what I wanted. Be who they wanted; do what they wanted, live where they said, go where they took me. Stay out when they said Stay Out!

"Until Meta Mu! I had a place here, my own place, my own things. I belonged, I took up space. They had to make room for what I needed, accommodate my preferences.

"So when we got excluded from your life, your interesting fascinating completely fresh life, I didn't...I felt..."

The psychologist in HB understood; the newly-remodeled Hippie Bitch was touched. "You felt that old pain, like a knife. I was making you feel used and small and pushed around like a little girl again."

Preppy broke down a second time, needed that hug again. HB held her, looked stricken, just kept repeating "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh honey I'm sorry," crying herself now.

It took as long as it took; I had nothing more important to do, nowhere more important to go. The little girl in Preppy needed all that said, needed to feel loved and important. And forgiven for being her flawed self.

I had nothing to contribute except to bear witness, so our house could be helped to understand, later, what had gone on here.

...

We got back, made some late lunch. Preppy had a study group, departed. Different now; no longer so reserved, so pensive. And strangely unconcerned with the state of her tear-stained blouse, her dirty shoes. That was change, maybe improvement?

My data collecting was done, experimental runs complete. I was down to statistics, significance analysis, then wordsmithing to make it into something publishable. Which seemed small now that I knew what Alani was doing, how important and groundbreaking her work was. Still, I had to justify my existence at the University.