Chapter 43: Misjudgment

January 17, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

“You’re too quiet,” Allyson said when we were about halfway to my apartment.

“Sorry,” I replied. “I was just thinking about the last couple of weeks.”

“Are you upset?”

“How about ‘overwhelmed’?” I asked. “Before Kristy and you, I’d been with six girls. I was with six new girls in the past twenty-four hours! That’s enough to overwhelm anyone, don’t you think?”

“Yes. I promise next weekend is just you and me, and I won’t try to suggest anything different.”

“Thanks. I kind of need to get my bearings.”

“I do need to say one thing,” Allyson said. “Bianca asked me if I was OK with her seeing you occasionally, and I said it was OK. I’ll leave it up to you what to do, though.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. The same would be true for any of the girls. What do you want me to tell Lucy?”

“Just let it drop, at least for now,” I said. “You and I are getting together next weekend, I have plans the following weekend, and I have to have time to do homework, study, and so on.”

“OK. Just so you can plan, my parents always have a big Memorial Day party at the end of May. You’re invited, and my friends who aren’t away at college will be there, including Phoebe. Plus a bunch of my parents’ friends.”

“I’ll put that on my calendar.”

“When is your birthday?”

“November 3. When is yours?”

“April 1, of all days!”

“Ouch,” I said with a grimace.

“Would you come to my birthday party? It’ll be on April 2, which is Friday. Mostly it would be the girls from today plus some guys who are at local colleges.”

“I’ll add that to my calendar, too.”

“Next weekend, can I come down on Friday and go home after the Super Bowl?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” I replied.

It would give us a good chance to spend time together and help me sort out how I felt about her. Strangely, I found myself comparing all the girls to Rachel, which made me wonder what my true feelings for Rachel were, and if we could overcome the obstacles. On that, only time would tell.

January 18, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

On Monday morning I continued to ponder everything that had happened since New Year’s, and shook my head at the ease at which I had in finding sex partners. I thought possibly it was something in the air or water at Spurgeon, but given how I hadn’t had time in High School, it was possible that I might have discovered girls besides Bev who wanted to have sex. I reproved myself because not only was I content with my relationship with Bev at that point, I hadn’t been interested in anyone else. And if I was honest, except for Rachel, I’d choose Bev over any of the other girls.

That made me, once again, think about what it was about Rachel that had me, well, enthralled was the only word that seemed to fit, despite being put off by her faith. I wondered, though, what she’d think about my escapades since New Year’s, and was positive that she wouldn’t approve.

I bundled up as we were still deep in the throes of Winter, though it was warmer than it had been, and was even going to reach 20°F by mid-afternoon. As I walked to the L, I wondered if I was being a fool in turning down another day of wild and crazy sex with the girls. I had time to think about it, because I suspected the offer would still be there in the future, though one or more of the girls might drop out if they had a boyfriend.

As the L lurched, clicked and clacked, and occasional sparks flew, I pushed those thoughts from my mind, and turned my attention to my Finance Accounting text. I’d finished my homework, but I’d brought it with me because I wanted to re-read the chapter we’d start discussing in class. I’d found that made the lectures much easier to understand, which made spending the extra time worth it. It cost me a bit of time, which I would have used to read the newspaper, but for now, my college class had to take precedence.

“Kane!” Mr. Nelson called out when I walked past his office. “Come back after you clock in!”

“Yes, Boss!” I replied firmly

I went to my locker, stashed my Winter gear, put on my purple jacket, clipped on my ID, put the pager on my belt, then hurried to the mailroom to clock in. I let Nick know that Mr. Nelson had called me, and returned to Mr. Nelson’s office.

“Yes, Boss?”

“How is O’Day doing?”

“He catches on pretty quickly and he gets his tasks done, though not as quickly as he could.”

“Not everyone is you, Kane!” Mr. Nelson laughed. “You’re like the kid in class who wrecks the curve for everyone. Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

“Of course,” I replied with a grin.

“Get back to work! Let Nick know if you see anything with O’Day that needs attention.”

“Yes, Boss!”

The day was fairly typical, and I was busy but not overworked. I had lunch with Rachel and we agreed to have our bi-weekly dinner on Tuesday. At the end of the day, I hurried home, had a quick meal, then headed to my class. It surprised me that four of the thirty-five students had already dropped the class, but having only a week of college experience, I didn’t know if that was normal or not. I turned in my homework as required, then sat down in what was my usual seat in the small lecture hall.

With the drops, there were perhaps a dozen empty seats, and other people changed seats to spread out, though surprisingly a petite, black-haired girl who had sat in the front of the lecture hall before sitting down next to me.

“I’m Violet,” she said.

“Funny, I’d say you were peach or maybe light brown!”

She laughed, “Violet is my name, you clown!”

“Oh,” I replied flatly.

“Do you have a name? Or should I just call you ‘doofus’?”

I laughed, “Jonathan. Didn’t like your seat?”

“No. Too close to the front, but I was almost late the first night, so I took the first open seat. I saw other people move, so I moved, too. You don’t mind if I sit next to you, do you?”

I decided to keep the silliness going, because I’d learned girls really liked it, so long as I didn’t take it too far.

“So long as you’ve had your shots, sure!”

“You jerk!” she exclaimed, but she was laughing. “Do you think I’m a dog?”

She wasn’t; in fact, she was a fox. But she was also a pixie compared to me. She couldn’t be more than five-foot-two, and I was six-two; I weighed about one-seventy-five, and if she weighed more than one-ten, I’d eat my wool hat. She was, on the other hand, perfectly proportioned for her size, with nicely flared hips and pert breasts.

“No, but you have to admit it was funny!”

“I’ll show you ‘funny’, Buster!”

“I never heard it called THAT,” I smirked.

“Do you EVER stop?”

“No!” I chuckled.

Violet couldn’t respond because the professor, Carl Peterson, a CPA during the day, began the lecture. I listened and took notes, and generally paid attention to the lecture, but a small part of my attention was on the girl next to me, and the utter craziness that seemed to be my life at this point. What happened when class ended came as no surprise.

“Want to get some coffee and work on our assignment?” she asked.

That would work, as I wouldn’t have as much time this week because of my dinner with Rachel and my weekend with Allyson.

“Sure. Where?”

“There’s a coffee shop about two blocks from here.”

We gathered our things, bundled up for the short walk, and left the lecture hall. After we exited the building, Violet led me to the coffee shop, where she asked for a booth. We took off our coats, hats, and gloves, and sat down opposite each other.

“How long have you been at Circle?” she asked after the waitress poured our coffee.

“This is my first semester. You?”

“Second. I started last Fall. I take it you work?”

“For a company in the Loop. I work in the mailroom.”

“Working your way through college?”

“Not really. Work pays for classes so long as I earn at least a C, and they like to promote from within. I got the job and decided to take advantage of tuition reimbursement, because otherwise, I’m kind of leaving money on the table, so to speak. You?”

“I work in a daycare, and I’m working my way through night school. What do you want to do?”

“Stockbroker or currency trader,” I replied. “You?”

“Accountant. Once I get two years under my belt, I’ll look for an accounting clerk job. You from Chicago?”

“No. Goshen, Ohio, which is just east of Cincinnati. You?”

“Riverside. That’s just west of Chicago. I attended RB High.”

“RB?”

“Riverside-Brookfield. The two villages are in the same school district. Actually, I’m from Bridgeport now. I moved to Bridgeport after my mom’s Dad passed because his house was bigger than the one in Riverside. You?”

“Goshen High.”

“Football or basketball?” she asked.

“Neither. I worked.”

“You look like a wide receiver or safety, or a basketball guard.”

“Never played anything except in gym or occasionally pickup, and not much of that. You?”

“Band. I played the flute. Well, I still play, but I’m not in a band or anything.”

I laughed, “No Sousaphone for you?”

She laughed, “Concert band, not marching band, and could you see me trying to carry an instrument bigger than me?”

“They don’t use those in concert bands?”

“Not really. Regular tubas are much more common for concert band, because Sousa designed the instrument to be easy to play while marching, and to project the sound over the band.”

“Things I never knew.”

“You can use them in concert bands, but ours always just used a conventional tuba, as I said. You don’t play an instrument, do you?”

“Nope. Never even tried. I wouldn’t have had the time or money for lessons, and honestly, it never interested me. Shall we look at our assignment?”

We were building the blocks for being able to perform complete financial reports, now adding income statements and P&L statements to the balance sheet. The first part of our assignment consisted of finding errors in a set of financial reports, which we identified and described, and then moved on to the second part of the assignment, which was constructing those documents based on information provided by the professor. It took us about an hour to finish, then we packed up and put on our coats.

“See you Wednesday?” Violet asked.

“Sure. Which way are you walking? I live by Polk and May.”

“I live about two blocks from there. You’re renting a room?”

“A garage apartment.”

“Cool. I’m living in my grandfather’s old house, as I said.”

We left the coffee shop, and walked towards my apartment, though turning south a block early so I could walk Violet to her door. We said ‘good night’ and I headed back to my apartment so I could review my portfolio and decide if I needed to make any changes.

I was comfortable with my results so far, and decided it was time to switch out of the mutual fund and buy a few individual stocks, along with a fixed-income product. Content with that, I read the Tribune, then got into bed.

January 20, 1982, Chicago, Illinois

On my Wednesday morning commute, I reflected on my dinner with Rachel. She’d kept her word about not talking about the future, except to confirm that she’d stopped going to church and told the priest she wasn’t coming back. He’d pressed her, but she’d simply stood firm and said she wasn’t sure she believed. That was a good sign, but I wasn’t sure it was enough. Again, there were at least five months to go before I had to address her question and make a decision.

Late in the afternoon, after the markets closed, Mr. Matheson asked me to come into his office.

“You got some brass, Kid,” he said.

“I’ve only been here a short time, but I see aggressive guys making a ton of money, and I’ve seen wimps fired. You want an aggressive go-getter who would take initiative and make you a ton of money, which I aim to do.”

“Nice sales job, Kid. You’re paying attention. How’s your practice portfolio doing?”

“Beating the market by eighteen percent only using information in the Journal and Trib. I’d do better with access to the news service which comes via Teletype.”

“Eighteen percent is pretty damn good in this market, though you know I stay completely away from equities.”

“I planned to move my investment money out of the mutual fund and into a mix of stocks and fixed income products based on my practice portfolio.”

“OK. Give me the account number and I’ll monitor your progress.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t fuck it up, Kid. This is what matters if you want to trade on my team without being a runner and putting in the time.”

“How do you judge if they’re able to trade?”

“They get some money to play with and if they do OK, then I let them talk to clients; if not, I can ‘em. But I have to review every trade. You chose a different way, so I’ll know if you have the gift or not. And that’s what it is, Kid. A smart guy can beat the market, but to make real money, you need the gift.”

“And contacts,” I replied. “That’s how you made that Yen trade the other day.”

“Right the first time. I knew you had a keen sense when you started hanging out with Thiel’s niece. She’s the hottest piece on this floor, and if she’s giving it to you, you’ve got something going on! Guys who are at the top of this game always attract the hottest chicks, and if you got her now, I’d say Glass knew what he was talking about when he sent you here.”

I almost laughed, because if he knew what had happened over the weekend, he’d be jealous. And if being able to have sex with hot girls was a sign that I’d be successful, I was going to be a world-beater! But I also was aware he had it exactly backwards — it wasn’t potential, it was actual success. The guys who were successful attracted women, and that was true of Matheson, I was sure, given he was fifty pounds overweight and out of shape, but was able to have almost any girl he wanted. He changed secretaries when he got bored with them and appeared to hire them based on breast size.

I smiled and nodded, then asked, “Anything else?”

“Just the account number.”

“I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning on my rounds.”

“Good. Dismissed, Kane.”

“Yes, Sir!”

I left and took the elevator back downstairs where I wrote out the account number on a sheet of paper and put it on my shelf, so I could take it to Mr. Matheson in the morning. I had a few things to do before I left, so I finished them, clocked out, and left the building. I had class, so I ate a quick meal, then left for Circle. Violet plopped down in the seat next to me as she had on Monday.

“Good evening, Ms. Beauregarde!” I said.

“Seriously?”

“You are chewing gum!”

“It’s Juicy Fruit, not blueberry! And she was a total bitch! Want a piece of gum?”

“Sure,” I replied.

She smirked, spit her gum into her palm, and offered it to me. My first thought was ‘gross’, but then it dawned on me that it was no different from French kissing, or putting my tongue in a pussy. Well, it was different, but if neither of those was ‘gross’, and I’d become comfortable kissing after blowjobs, taking what amounted to a dare was no different from kissing her, which, in the right circumstance, I’d do. I took the gum and popped it in my mouth and started chewing.

“I can’t believe you did that!!” she gasped.

“Would you French kiss me?” I asked.

“What?!”

“Think about it — it’s no different from ‘swapping spit’, and given I wouldn’t have any qualms about French kissing you if the circumstance presented itself, why not?”

“Because it’s ... uhm, nice trap!”

“Trap?” I asked.

“If I say it’s ‘gross’ it implies I think kissing you would be gross.”

“DO you think kissing me would be gross?”

“I don’t know you well enough to kiss you.”

“Which is a different thing altogether. Have you French kissed anyone?”

“As if that’s your business?” Violet asked testily.

“Never mind,” I said as the instructor moved to the lectern to begin class.

I’d effectively derailed the conversation by doing something unexpected and asking a simple question, meant only to make an example, and I’d managed to upset Violet. I had thought she was easy going and laid back, but I’d obviously misjudged. I’d taken the fact that she’d sat next to me, introduced herself, and asked to do our homework together as an invitation to at least be her friend, and felt comfortable doing something a bit crazy, but it had backfired badly.

I thought back to my conversation earlier in the day with Murray Matheson, and his comment about how he knew someone would be successful, and I realized that I’d totally misunderstood what he was saying, because I’d thought only about sex. What he was really saying, though, was that it was about being able to get people to say ‘yes’ to whatever it was you wanted. I’d actually done that with him, and I’d blown it with Violet. The key was to learn the lesson and not make the same mistake in the future.

I refocused on the lecture and began taking notes. When class ended, I packed up my things and decided it was best to wait and see if Violet said anything. When she didn’t, I delayed a few minutes before I left, as we’d be walking the same way, and if she was annoyed with me, I didn’t want to make things worse.