Life Without Pizza

Looking into the mirror on my left, I can't help but wonder why anyone would ever install mirrors in an elevator. Something important must be afoot, because the girl next to me is texting more quickly than I can imagine her speaking. Her auburn hair is pulled into a ponytail and a stack of books is occupying her left arm entirely. When the elevator stops and the doors begin to pry themselves open, she steps out without so much as a glance toward anything or anyone but her illuminated screen of connection.

As the doors again begin to close, I see her rip her eyes from their entrancement up at the world around her before spinning back toward the closing elevator doors. A look of understanding passes over her eyes just as she becomes shut from my view. The wrong floor.

My destination, the top floor, is almost completely empty.

There was a time when I really enjoyed these meetings, but that was when there was pizza and single women. Now there's no more food and only a few chicks who complain to each other about their dismally inadequate boyfriends. Looking down to the floor below this one, I see a former coworker of mine. She chopped all of her hair off. Maybe I should yell something down to her, but maybe this is a library and maybe I shouldn't.

Standing just outside the cracked door, I can see a few people on the opposite side organizing their things. Sighing, I open the door slowly so as not to interrupt any integral thought processes revolving around the wrong doings of paramours former and current.

Before anyone can make an accusation, I say, "I know; I'm about five minutes late. I didn't expect you all to be here already."

Sitting on the opposite side of the table are two people I haven't seen here before. One of them endeavors to say something before I do, "Hi, I hope you don't mind that we came. We missed our group earlier today."

"That's fine. What's your name?"

Reaching across the table I grasp her hand as she answers, "Katie."

The guy next to her says, "Chris," as I in turn shake his hand. 

"Cool. I'm Dallin. It's nice to have you guys here."

Sitting down, I look around the room. "Well, does anyone have questions about anything in particular?"

People just shake their heads while I tell myself that this is the last time I ever take a tutoring position.

"Nothing? Okay, are there any areas you guys want to hit? The test is tomorrow."

Finally, the girl at the end of the table makes a suggestion, "I was thinking we could just do an overview of everything," to which everyone vocalizes their agreement.

Forcing a smile and a happy tone, I nod and tell them what a good idea that is. "No better place to start than at the beginning."

Reviewing everything without any direction or specifics will take at least 4 hours, but they don't know that yet. I hear Katie and Chris both eagerly pulling note paper from their bags. I lied. I know who Chris and Katie are: they've been on my list all semester but have never shown up until today. Unfortunately they will probably fail.

Instead of telling them of their fate, I choose to give them another day's hope and turn back toward the room. 

"Hey guys, before we get started, does anyone have a whiteboard marker that works?"