  This is a version of the chad-sex-in-the-office story. The Confession I�m always in the office in the afternoon. Pat, my advisor, was usually out, so it�s the best time to get work done. The creepy exchange down the hall, Juanita, is two offices down. She always sits in the dark, walking into her office is like walking into a cave. Nonetheless, into the cave I go, since she left me a note to see her in the faculty mailbox this morning.
Probably wants to talk about my thesis. Almost every prof has, at some time, or another, wanted to talk to me about the thesis. It�s the first time that the Department has allowed for a thesis in English to be a creative project. So into the cave I go. She appears to be meditating, or napping. I knock on her door, she gestures for me to sit down.
In my head, I go over what I had written so far on my thesis, about playing hockey, missing my ride because of drugs, the standoff I had with mom about the drugs. Right now, I�m writing about how my mom locked me in the basement to get me clean. So, I�m sort of grinning when I sit down, in part because of Juanita�s imperious gesture, but largely remembering how much my mom loved me to lock me in that basement, while I was screaming obscenities. I sit, waiting for her to start. Juanita sighs, flips back her long brown hair. She sighs again, and adjusts her glasses.
I can�t help but think how weird she is, sitting in her cave, and not actually speaking to me. �You know, Charles, there have been a number of sexual assaults on campus the past through months.� My brain brings up solid. She has an accent, she�s from Venezuela, or somewhere else warm and Spanish speaking. Maybe I misheard. �What?� �Sexual assaults.� She sighs again, leans back. Okay.
I understood what she said. Why is she saying it to me? �I�m sorry, Juanita, but what are we discussing here? I thought we were going to discuss my thesis,� My mouth is quite dry, and my brain, after slamming into that mental wall, is scrabbling to make sense out of what she�s saying. �Well, Charles, I wish we could talk about your thesis, but this is far more serious. I see a girl hanging around the office with you sometimes, yes?� A girl.
A girl. A girl. Jocelyn works out of town, she never comes to see me at the office. She calls, to find out what we�re doing that evening. Classmates. A girl.
Then it hits me. �A short girl, short blond hair? Reece?� �Yes, that would be her. I do not know her name.� �Yes, well, what about her? Wait a minute. What is being implied here?� �Charles, I spend many hours in this office, often late at night.
I would prefer it if you did not bring girls to your office to have sex with them.� She�s leaning forward now. I�m trying really hard not to laugh, or puke on her desk. �What?� I say eloquently. It�s like what I hear about looking into the Grand Canyon, at first, a person�s brain is unable to process it, it�s too damn deep. This was difficult to process because it was too damn insane. �Why are you surprise Charles?� �Juanita, I am not having sex in my office.
Or are you saying I assaulted her? What are you trying to say? She�s not even my girlfriend,� She raises a hand. �It is none of my business. I do find it unprofessional, however.� � Wait a minute. Wait one minute.
Reece is my best friend. We play video games here. No sex. I have a fianc�e, and we live together.� She�s getting a bit uncomfortable now, probably has to do with the fact that I�m bewildered, and the bewilderment is making me sound high pitched and crazy. �Whatever you say, Charles. Just keep what I say in mind.� I stand up, walk out of her cave, hitting the doorframe with my shoulder on the way out.
Then I call Reece, and tell her everything. The same crazy I heard in me, I heard in her. �Chazz, you can�t be serious? What the hell? Oh my God, Chazz, could this affect getting into grad schools next year?� I sigh. �I hadn�t even thought about that.
But if Juanita goes to the head of the department, yeah, this could mean something bad.� �All right, fine. I�m going to see her tomorrow.� The next day passes, with me getting chills every time I pass that creepy woman�s office. At 4pm, almost on the nose, Reece walks in. She�s carrying a case of beer. �Drinks on me, lover boy.� Despite the tone, she looks nervous. Weirded out.
�Don�t screw with me, what happened?� She grinned, sort of tightly around the corners. �I told her everything. She was taken pretty far aback. I started in on the whole if-she-thought-i-was-being-assaulted-why-the-hell-didn�t-she-call-security thing. She said she was going to, but she was worried about embarrassing us. Embarrassment!
Can you imagine?� �It would have cleared things up pretty quick if she had.� �No kidding. But, it�s over now, anyways.� She�s not looking at me, and she�s looking sort of tense. �How?� �Like is said, Chazz, I told her everything. I told her that I was worried about your career, that we were playing video games, that nighttime is the best time to do that so we aren�t pissing anyone off. The last thing was the kicker.� She blushed. Reece is not the blushing type, but then again, we really don�t talk about much that would have that potential.
� And I told her that I was a virgin, and had an appointment to see the doctor this evening to find out if there�s any tests, or whatever I could take to prove it. She got pretty uncomfortable, then, and told me that wouldn�t be necessary. I, uh, well. Here�s some beer.� She left then. I was too stunned to give chase. She didn�t answer her phone the next day, but Juanita cornered me in the printing room.
�You have a very good friend. Not to worry about it, okay? It was my mistake.� I just smiled and nodded, and strangled her in my head. Then I left the office, bought a black forest cake, and went to find Reece. 
