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Some of the courses one is required to take in college are absolutely
unreal! Sociology is one of them. Sitting and trying to feign attentiveness
while listening to some professor pedantically drone on about “Modes of
Alienation” is surely beyond the threshold of endurance. As such, thoughts and
eyes tend to wander to more stimulating subjects. My preoccupation in
Sociology II was Norma.
I had met Norma through a mutual friend at the beginning of the semester.
When we discovered that we both had the same class, we naturally gravitated
towards each other’s familiar territory, sitting side-by-side in the same row.
Norma was slim and leggy; her short hair was of a nondescript brownish hue.
Her unencumbered breasts were small and she had a compact little tush which was
invariably ensconced in tight-fitting, faded jeans. She wore no make-up and I
never saw her in a dress or skirt. Often, she’d sport a purple scarf about her
head, effectively framing her face in a manner quite pleasing. Perhaps her most
striking physical attribute was her hands, pale and long-fingered, with
shortly-cropped nails. She probably could have been a marvelous keyboard
virtuoso. The whole demeanor of her gazelle-like being was decidedly hoydenish;
sort of a willowy Jamie Lee Curtis type if quantification was necessary.