Three's Company

What is this, a fucking job interview? Not sure if I'm qualified to make that statement. I've never had a job. What would otherwise be an introduction under normal circumstances, has become an interrogation. And here I thought my answers would include where I'm from or what I plan to major. A naïve notion to say the least. During the first ten minutes we've only uncovered a single truth. I'm not gay. The questions are at a pause for the moment – I take it his stare is not only to intimidate, but also to allow time to come up with another idiotic inquiry. If I could read his thoughts, I'd assume he's thinking there was some mix up when assigning dorm mates.

The wait is over. It appears another question is being formulated. At this point nothing would surprise me. Here we go.

"How do you feel about orgies?” asked as though he wants me to explain the Theory of Relativity.

"I'm not all that comfortable…” I'm halted mid response.

"Let me retort", his tone now condescending, "there will be two women entering this dorm room with intentions of making me, the third party, an active participant in acts of passion otherwise considered taboo. Now, the parties who are privy, but unable to participate will either a) find some undisclosed location to reflect on one’s mediocre existence while the event is in progress, or b) become a spectator while at the same time making their presence inconspicuous".

At this point I'm not sure what impresses me more – how eloquently his ultimatum was conveyed, or the fact that he was able to pull of an orgy. We've only set foot on campus two hours ago. Wait orientation and classes' start early tomorrow, as indicated on the schedule laid next to me. Not proud of my decision, given the circumstances, I reluctantly choose option B. I can now find some relief with this conversation coming to a close. I then start organizing my comics in alphabetical order. I can finally relax. I turn briefly and get a quick glance of a picture sitting on his night stand. Well dressed, black male, in his teens, shaking hands with none other than Colin Powell. Need I say more? I'm interrupted again after placing Batman Year One in order with the rest of my comics.

Again, in a polite manner he says, "Try not to stare so much tonight, makes me nervous, thanks buddy". Ladies and gentlemen, more preferably ladies in his case, I give to you Derek Sinclair.