Franklin opened his eyes and it was dark. The room was lit only by the green glow of the numbers on the alarm clock. They said 5:35AM. His roommate was still sleeping. Franklin could see the dark silhouette like a large lump in other bed across the small dorm room. Franklin stood quietly and picked up his soap and his towel.
Then he toed his flip-flops from beneath his bed and quietly stepped out of the room; careful not to wake his sleeping room-mate. He accomplished these surreptitious maneuvers with practiced ease. Franklin’s daily routine was to wake up very early and get to the communal shower before anyone else was awake. The shower was a big open area where there was no privacy. He was self-conscious about his large size and was uncomfortable with the thought of showering together with the other guys from his dorm. Alone in the large shower area he turned on multiple shower heads simultaneously and luxuriated as the hot steam rose around him.
After the shower and a shave, Franklin made his way down to the dorm cafeteria and waited for it to open. Being first in line meant he would get breakfast with the early kids who were rushing to catch an 8AM lecture; later he would get back in line and dine with the bulk of the dorm students who had classes that started later in the day. It was during this second breakfast that his room-mate and his room-mates friends might join him. The dorm would get full and table space was sometimes hard to find.
Franklin was picking at the last of second breakfast when his room-mate arrived.
“Hey Doug,” Franklin said casually.
“Hey Tempo,” Doug said as he placed his breakfast tray on the table next to Franklin and sat down. Doug began to unceremoniously devour a stack of pancakes.
Franklin flipped open the college paper and started to read. The lead article was regarding the Anti-Organic Robotics Association (AORA). Apparently, Hans Hoobler, the founder, was coming to campus that evening to give a speech.
As Franklin read, he used his peripheral vision to monitor Doug. Doug was popular. He was tall, smart and popular with girls. He was Franklin’s room-mate by pure luck of the draw. Doug had lots of friends and lots of girlfriends.
This tenuous link to his roommate was Franklins only link to a social life. Usually this was nothing more than a meaningless conversation over breakfast and then Franklin would not see Doug again until Doug stumbled into the dorm room late at night. As Doug was finishing the last bites, Franklin ventured a conversation.
“Hans Hoobler is giving a speech tonight,” Franklin offered.
“Hmm,” Doug answered, not really saying anything at all; then swilled some coffee.
Franklin pressed on. He said
“Nothing like a political rally to bring the fawns out.”
Doug snorted; then chortled.
“Bring the fawns out” he repeated, then continued,
“What would you know about fawns? Have you ever been with a girl? Any girl?”
Franklin realized he had pushed it too far. Franklin often heard Doug swapping war stories of female conquests with his buddies. They all referred to new girls on campus as fawns. Doug and his group had too many girls that they shared too easily. These girls were too easy; therefore the idea of hunting new girls, fawns, was more challenging. Doug and his friends would assume an aristocratic air and say it was more sporting; and then they would laugh.
Franklin was not part of this group, but he wanted in. Franklin had never been with a girl. He had never had a date, kissed a girl or even held hands with a girl. But he hoped that through the raw luck of being assigned a dorm room with a popular womanizer he might gain entry into his club and into his world; but now he realized he had overplayed his hand.
Franklin hid behind the newspaper and did not say anything. His neck and ears felt hot.
“Hey Tempo” Doug softened. Doug felt guilty. He knew his roommate admired him and wanted to be his friend. Now he felt guilty for crushing him.
Doug said, “Tell you what…I’ll meet you at the speech tonight and introduce you to a girl.”
Franklin realized that Doug was being magnanimous, that this gesture was nothing more than charity. But this was college and Franklin was desperately alone. Franklin’s response, therefore, was not complex; there were no hurt feelings or bruised dignity necessary to overcome.