I wasn't thinking when I walked into the department two weeks ago. It was the last day of classes, and that's when the department throws its Christmas party. I was halfway down the hall and about to open my office door when I heard someone sort of scream whisper "Go! Go! Close your door! Hurry before she sees you!"
It was the Queer Theory professor. He never talks to me. He rarely even attends the faculty meetings. I don't know why, but that day he found it necessary to warn me. The faculty Christmas party was in full swing, and it sounded like somebody had spiked the punch bowl (definitely a no-no around here. We're state-funded).
I opened my office door and closed it behind me. What the hell were they singing? It sounded like "Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush", but they were all high as howler monkeys who had eaten too many overripe bananas. The words didn't quite fit the melody.
Sa gar vi rundt om en enebayrbusk
enebayrbusk enebayrbusk...
That's when I remembered Professor Blipps' announcement last Spring semester that the hiring committee had acquired a new professor from the University of Oslo. I don't recall his professed field of expertise, but I do remember the photograph that Miss Blipps (the department chair) passed around. He was very blonde and looked like he had just stepped off a GQ magazine cover. The women (especially Professor Byrd Ivies the linguistics professor) ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the photo. The batty old broad crowed how she'd just loooove to squeeze him.
I locked my door. I wasn't going to go to the office to deliver my syllabi until the party broke up and everyone went home.
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