Pete Townshend

I used to play a game, when I was about 13, with the neighbor kids. I'd tell the 10 year-old whether his older sister was wearing a bra, and whether it clasped in front or behind. I didn't know anyone else that played this game. He'd invariably ask me to prove it.

(Mom, if you're reading this... remember "13 year-old boy")

So I'd approach her, grab the clasp, and [i]twist[/i]. This usually resulted in lots of slapping, and her landing on top of me. I looked at it as a win-win scenario: she got to beat a boy, and I had a cute blond on top of me.

I still pay attention to the status of bras. Call it habit or whatever. I don't bother with front clasps anymore... I figure if it doesn't hook in back, it hooks in front and let it go at that.

Today it rained, and it was my second day on campus. Next to me is a blond, shorter than me... and she's braless. Her shirt is white. We're already in the rain, but it's not buckets of pouring... just wet.

My umbrella arm springs to a position about 3 inches from her face and remains there for the rest of the walk (both of us are going to the Chemistry building). I'm pretty sure she didn't wear that shirt expecting it to rain, and definite that it wasn't for my benefit.

As we parted, she said, "that's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me!"
I responded, "you need to get out more."

But, having read "Medea" this evening, I have the itching feeling I was wrong. And that moment will be the best exposure to humanity that young girl ever gets.

A stranger gets rained on so that she doesn't wind up pert-near naked in Chemistry, and gained nothing by it.

I feel a little sad.

Stupid tragedy.