To be thorough
One step at a time
Today I had the pleasant opportunity to chat with an 86 years old physics professor, a fascinating man whose keen mind is/was trapped in a frail shadow of his former self.
We met at the university cafeteria, it was 2pm and a gorgeous voluptuous young south American women took my order.
‘What can i get you?’ she asked with a forced smile
I couldn’t help but fantasize about replying ‘your breasts on a platter please, with a side of tartar sauce if you don’t mind’. A surreal statement but one that reaffirmed my weird and unique existence.
‘Chicken/Mayo panini wrap please’ I replied , in real.
After flashing my vaccination certificate , my university discount card and my bank card I stood next to a beam in the corner watching her frantically handle other orders.
It was then that John shuffled over to the counter in front of me. He had forgotten his vaccination certificate yet the young women couldn’t dare bring herself to send him away and fulfilled his request.
‘A toasted cheese and a large coffee please’ he asked in a frail yet determined voice.
I would often see John in the physics building where we would discuss pleasantries. More often then not he would mistake seeing me in some place or another. One day it was parking, another it was the beach and another time it was at some conference. Naturally out of respect and my hatred for confrontation I would act as if there was an inkling of truth to his misguided sighting.
We got to chatting while waiting in line, he discussed how he recently cut his hair by himself. Chuckling about the the different levels of hair clippers:
‘You see, I began cutting with level two but it was too long. I then used level one to further shave down, that was splendid’ he smiled.
‘How ever did you reach the back’ I humored
‘with determination!’ He laughed!
Slowly the conversation transferred into the realm of physics. We discussed his books , childhood passions and the countless papers he had lying around in his office.
‘What motivates you to be in physics’ he suddenly quizzed.
I fumbled my words and blurted out a lack luster answer, i can hardly remember it yet I am certain it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
After a slightly awkward silence we received our food and turned to sit down near a pond. It took me 30 seconds to reach the aforementioned area while it took john 2 minutes. He shuffled with a terrible arch in his back and a maligned wince on his wrinkled face.
There we discussed , awkwardly, a host of things. We delved into his experimental research, he couldn’t help but boast and lecture me on various topics.
‘I was never one for team sports. I despised cricket , football and the lot of it” he remarked with his characteristic fragility.
‘I liked the solo sports you see, like tennis …” he mumbled
While talking we were approached by a black crow. It seemed to have become almost attuned to human presence. It didn’t budge when shooed by either of us, instead it pushed to steal our morsels.
It oscillated between my table and another. The latter taken by a delectable young Indian women who worked at the gym. She sat with her unusually tall skater boy/friend(not too sure) and they seemed to be looking at some anime drawings. I smiled at them and wondered to myself how soft her caramel skin would feel under my callused laden finger.
It was nearly 30 minutes since I rendezvoused with John, his mannerisms were getting tedious and my patience waned after seeing the young women.It reminded me that i had more pressing problems to worry about. Mainly that being a sexless romantic is a surefire way to fall into depression.
22 and all I get from women were off the cuff flirtatious remarks and silence! I was frankly disgusted at the whole situation.
To calm me I blamed it my lack of action on me being of Somali background. The lack of black women in the university and the general area meant i didn’t have much options going for me.
‘black isn’t particularly in style when it comes to relationships in a white/asian dominated university’ I mused.
This seemed to do the trick as it allowed me to refocus on John for a few more minutes. The rest of our conversation was painfully slow and thorough. He was 86 years old and explaining his life/laboratory in such a methodical and slow manner that my young impatient mind was on the verge of commiting ritual suicide.
Not long after, I made an excuse to leave.
‘Please send me your book!’ I asked with an excited expression and scribbling my student email on his diary.
On the way back I fantasized about continuing on his life work. It was clear he wanted fresh new minds to continue on his life work. His only other co-worker was a wily Serbian man who reminded me of pinky from the hit series pinky and the brain.
It would be difficult but if I play my cards right I would never have to enter the corporate world I thought to myself. At least in physics the drudgery meant something, however small and insignificant my work may be at least I can smile about adding to the grand bucket of human work.
But as usual I digress.
~Sarinle
