Before I went up to the Rhode Island School of photography, I had decided not to seek any relationships out. I was harshly honest with myself, and realized that I wasn't over Jean's death, and that it would take an extraordinary lady to have the understanding and maturity to be able to accept a person that was going through grief.

The other reason was I had absolutely no confidence in my abilities to develop relationships. I didn't need any more Parkville's in that regard, and it always seemed to occur when I enjoyed a friendship and attempted to ask a girl out. I felt that friendships were more desirable, and it wasn't worth the risk to seek more than that.

I was still in the state of my quirky impotence, with being fully functioning with fantasy, yet completely sexually falling apart when it came to actual thoughts with being around a woman. By the time that R.I.S.P. rolled around, I was tired of dealing with it as a problem. I figured I would somehow seek help in the future, but actually thought my crazy impotence might be a benefit to me at the time.

In attending school, my belief against seeking relationships were further reinforced, ironically because just about all of the girls were so nice to me. That hit the spot, making me not only feel much better about things, but they made me feel very happy about being around them.

On top of it all, most of the girls were very tight with each other, and I feared if I screwed up with one of them, it would end up with all of them. Nope! For me, relationships were out of the question.

However, my sentiments were doomed as that is not how nature, nor one's mind operates. It took but a week for me to get interested in one girl, one that had always lived in Providence, Rhode Island, who was attending the school. She was smaller than me, freckled with reddish brown hair, and dare I say in my opinion, pleasantly dumpy and soft.

Yet, I seemed not to be able to take my eyes off of her, started talking and enjoyed the quick conversations, be it about photography or the weather. I was in a war with myself, trying to come up with reasons not to ask her out.

I picked on her Rhode Island accent, and told myself that dating her would be like Ted Kennedy whispering sweet nothings in my ears. Still I was attracted to her, but decided that I wasn't ready to attempt a relationship other then the day to day friendship.

When I saw another male student sitting beside her and an intimacy develop, I was a bit hurt, but since I was unwilling to spend further time with her, I had no one to blame but myself. I felt it would be selfish of me to wish her to wait. In that class period, I had a feeling that she said something, since the guy was looking at me, as much her.

I walked out of the class and the guy who was sitting beside her walked up to me and said, "I think that you noticed that I am talking to [The Rhode Island girl], and that I am interested in her. If you are interested in her as well, I think that maybe it would be best to talk with her and see how interested in you she is."
"No, I made the decision not to ask her out, so I wouldn't worry about things."

"Seriously, if you have feelings for her, maybe you better consider if you should be spending more time with her."

"Really, I'm Ok with everything. If you want to go out with her, feel free. Enjoy!"

Still things were on his mind, "No really, if you like her, tell her. I don't want to be going with her and then have the both of you get second thoughts about things."

That one really flustered me, and it was great that he's being a nice guy and all. I always tried to be that way, and I now hoped I was a bigger pain in the ass to anyone, than he was being with me.

I looked him right in the eyes, and said, "I'm impotent!"

He looked just like Scooby Doo, his eyes popped out, he went, "Rough Roh!, and he even skipped a few steps as he ran back into the classroom. When I walked back in, I noticed that he said something to her and it looked like her back was just bitten by a mosquito.

Those were the sad and funny parts. As an interested observer of those two, it not only made me feel a relationship is possible to develop, but in a way much like I believed they should be. I didn't feel that I gave up on her, but yielded to a higher force, which gave me a lot of insight and satisfaction about relationships, even theirs.


There was another girl at school named Roxanne who was tall, and blond, with a Dorothy Hamel style hair cut. I considered her attractive, but she did have her quirks, including these huge eyes that gave her an owl like appearance. The whites also had a bluish tint to them, so I suspected that she had goiter.

I did notice that a second year student had taken a liking to her and got a kick out of singing, "Roxanne." To this Roxy would become totally angered and her eyes would bulge, as she yelled about him singing that. But every time he did that, we would get a laugh out of it, and everyone got further creeped out by her angry expression.

I did point out to her that he liked her and she became irate with me, "I could see it now, he pulls his crap on a date and I belt him one! Ooh." I was upstairs eating lunch and with the tables filled with people, ate of the end. The conversation was with the dorm girls and pertained to dating.

Roxy chimed in with, "Well, I don't worry about dating too much. I know that I am not attractive, a bit heavy, and don't have anything of interest for a guy. I feel more comfortable without dating anyway."

This horrified me, and despite I shared the exact same thoughts with regards to myself, I felt bad for Roxy, and the way that she felt. To me, she wasn't unattractive, and was a good woman. I did make the mistake of uttering under my breath, "God, if there is any way I can help, let me help." 

A couple days later Roxy and I found ourselves at the Versamat to process our 35mm film. A Versamat is a film processing machine that we use to develop our film. We went in together into the totally dark closet-like space to load our film in.

Inside, Roxy was a bit nervous and accidentally knocked off my film which was sitting on the edge of the loading shelf. I was now on the floor of the completely dark space feeling around for my rolls of film. By accident, I touched her shoe and she jumped about, as if jogging in place and stepped on my hand three or four times.

Roxy was embarrassed, apologized and calmed down. My left hand then found the film, but I was thinking payback time, when I told her that I just about got it, and slid my right hand up her pants leg to her calf. All of a sudden, she started sliding down the floor, then across it. Hitting my mind as if it was a climbing accident, I immediately put my knee and leg between her legs to arrest her fall.

What romantic notion was going through my head? "Damn Mike you picked a tall one, your nose is smack dab, in the middle of her shoulder blades." Roxy started crying and my thought changed to, "Oh my God! She thinks I am going to rape her."

But before I could apologize, she started laughing, then crying again, then back to laughing, and sort of a combination of both. Now my emotions were dire.

"Roxy ... Roxy ... Tell me what's happening? What's going on upstairs?"

"I ... I ... Can't believe this is happening!"

"Well it is Roxy! "

"Like a third grader, Roxy yelled, "I-----I know - oh."

"I'll stop if you wish."

"No, I can get things loaded from here, but you'll have to hold me up." 

She says she's 180 pounds? Not as tall as she is. "Roxy, you know why this is happening?"

"No?"

"Because you deserve it."

"Oh my God!" She yelled at the top of her lungs.

"Yes you do!" Roxy made these high pitch squeals.

"Roxy, I am here to tell you there is someone who likes you."

"Who?" I squeezed her mid-section and kissed her on her neck.

"Oh, my god!"

"I am not the type to harass and badger you about going out, but if you want to spend time with me, all you have to do is ask. Ok?"

"Ok, that sounds nice."

I gave her an affectionate horsey ride and she produced this loud, long, low sonorous moan that sure didn't stop when I did. "Roxy! Roxy, no! Shhhh."

She yelled at me, "Well then, don't do that." A minute more and she declared herself done with processing the film.

"Ok, then you can get up."

"Mike, I can't."

"What?"

"I can't. My legs, they aren't working. You have to put me back on my feet." It was trip, to figure out how to come to standing position, while having a hold on to her, to get her back on her feet. It was an act of love to manage this feat. With her back on her feet, I turned the light on and she still couldn't walk so I started to massage her legs.

"Mike, don't do that. You'll put me back down on the floor again." I thought it was best to stop.

"Roxy, one thing's for sure. We work well together." We both got a laugh with my wit of humor. When we opened the door, there were at least ten students standing in line looking at us with their mouths open.

Roxy walked away, floating with the expression like we had made the greatest love in the world. I maintained my air of dignity, which gave me the expression of the cat with bird in the mouth. As I walked past the line, I looked back and people were still looking at me with their mouths open.

I said to them, "What? We were just processing film!"

The dorm bitch returned a comment of, "Processing? That's a good a word as any for what you two were doing."

For the first time in my life, I felt that I did a crazy act. Overtures of making love, in the physical condition that I was in. But I liked the prospects of a relationship where we could work together and spend time with someone. I came up with the line of, "It doesn't matter if I can't make love, as long as I find ways of loving you."


It wasn't long after, I met Roxanne in the hall and simply greeted her. I passed by about ten feet when I heard a loud, resultant boom. I looked back and found Roxy laid out on the floor. Being the first responder, I checked her for vitals. I was pretty worried, but her eyes popped open.

I couldn't resist and slid down beside her, resting on my side with my hand holding up my head. "Roxy, has this happened before?"

"Yes, I used to pass out a lot."

"Is there anything we can do for you?"

"No, I'll be able to get up in a bit."

At that point, the Dorm Bitch chimed in, "Mike, let us take care of her for you. The object is to get her off of the floor, not keep her there."

The next day, I made it by her and down the steps when I heard that loud resultant boom. The sound of a human head hitting a hardwood floor in an open space was incredible. In the afternoon, the dorm girls were upset because Roxanne wasn't in school and all of her clothing and personal items were gone.

The next day I asked the girls what happened and they said that Mr. Falgo called her parents, and refunding them all of their money, asked them to take her home. The girls were sad, as was I, because I felt her problems could have been worked out. I also felt that I was jipped out of a possible relationship, and I hoped I didn't have anything to do with her leaving.


Just as Jeff said, the girl from Baltimore did frequent the apartment and the simple act of going from my room to the bathroom created a lot of anxiety and a bit of a panic in her. It really hurt me I had that effect with her. As a general rule, when I heard that she was coming, I left, taking to walking the streets or spending time in the park.

However , very often the main activity at our apartment was playing board games, so if I walked in and she was still there, it was a quick trip to the bathroom, then to my room where I would remain all night. Jeff and David noticed this and asked me why I didn't stay and I put it simply, " I know I have a bad reaction with her, and I want her to feel like a quest, so I prefer to leave.

Even though they said my staying there was alright, I still opted to leave. It took a a while, but finally the girl from Maryland, stopped me by grabbing my arm and asking me to join in on the board game. She made a seat available next to her, and I did enjoy being able to join in on the fun, but there she sat, looking like she had just swallowed a worm.

I took a few more times, before that apprehensive wore off, and I felt like a member of the gang. I really like the girl, and at least wanted to develop a visceral relationship of working together on assignments, but I was afraid to ask as I ended up happy that I was included within the apartment.

It wasn't long after, the girl from Maryland, announced that she started dating another student at the school. I simply had a, "That figures," mentality. Needless to say, everyone wanted to know who, and I was totally shocked and dumbfounded at the answer.

She had picked the one person at the school I felt was the most decent individual there. He held a multiple-degree black belt in Karate and really took life seriously. To me it was a crazy mismatch, but the feelings they had for each other, really rang true. She changed, such as giving up smoking and partying, and really gained in maturity.


I lost out on another note. Jenifer was one of the most attractive girls in the school and she provided me with a ride on a field trip. She simply started talking to me about relationships, with me considering it was a mutual discussion, I chimed in with my views and desires.

She immediately went into a panic, "No Mike, a friend is not what I need. I have problems and that is always how they start. I get a friend and next thing I know, it totally goes out of control. I have sexual problems, and can't help myself. No, I can't risk it with you. I like being there and don't need the problems to surface."

"Jenifer, I was only talking about myself."

"You just don't understand." I was shocked at how I had triggered something, and almost told her a sexual problem won't matter with me, because of my problems. I knew the humor I could add, wouldn't help the situation.

I ended up concluding the conversation, "Look Jenifer. While I am ashamed at myself, I am probably the only guy in the school that won't figure into your problem. If you need a friend, you can come to me, without fear. I won't become a problem for you."

She proved her point very shortly. She became involved with a male student who the dorm girls considered the scummiest guy in the school. To be honest, he not only gave that vibe to most of the students, he seemed to enjoy doing so.

Then there came the moment the dorm girls were up in arms about those two. He did nudes of her and they were aghast he was doing prints. I believe Jeff chimed in on the male sentiment of the school, "Your attitudes surprise me, as this being a photo school; nudes should really be a part of our training."

Comments were then expressed about the fact that most of us didn't see the contacts. Jenifer quickly became an intermittently attending student. Concerned, I did enquire and found out that she was involved in a traffic accident. However, there came a point in time, when I believed that she stopped attending completely. I never kept track of her boyfriend, most didn't want to.


All of my roommates left for Halloween weekend, but I decided to attend a party. The party was held in the same location as the school mixer, and a rare chance to drink in a long time. Arthur, our portraiture instructor was the standout, as he was dressed in colonial garb and happily dancing with all the girls.

I wanted to dance too, and I asked one of the dorm girls who was dressed up as the Devil in red leotards. She declined and my desire was so great, that I pressed the point and she dressed me down. I then got belligerent over the indignity and we exchanged barbs until she told me to, "Fuck off!"

Still wanting to dance, I found another girl, asked and to my astonishment, we danced. With having revenge for the red Devil, it helped my ego since I picked the bustiest woman out of the bunch. In fact, two hands wouldn't hold one of her puppies up.

I walked up to the red Devil and said, "I want to thank you for not dancing with me, because I found a real woman!" I then made the same breast gestures as a hormone filled 9th grader. "She's better then two of you would be!"

The Devil busted out laughing, and said, "You'll sober up eventually!" I know that she meant that as an insult, but I couldn't figure it out. Boy did I love dancing with my girl and with everything ready to go, I was horny. I invited her over to my apartment.

She declined, but walked me outside and I thanked her for being there for me. She then grabbed me and kissed me. I was a bit shocked for the fireworks, and somehow her hand had found the reverse switch for my phallic pump. I was now grateful that she wasn't coming over to the apartment.

The walk home was a trip, because while I didn't stretch the condoms over my face to make the wrinkles as I did for John's rock concert, my makeup still had its effect. I noticed I had an approaching driver spooked. He'd be staring at me and then would realize he was veering off course, and had to look at the road again.

I would mess with him, by jumping to a new position when he had to take his eyes off of me. Suddenly, I pointed and he went into a terrified stare. An oncoming car, who didn't notice me; blared his horn at the guy. With the driver's attention now on not having a head on collision, I rolled over the bushes, and took off in a tactical run as he hit his breaks.

He suddenly jumped out of his car and ran to the bushes looking for me. My knowledge of all things Ninja and survival, evasion and escape put me in the perfect position to observe his total panic, jumping back into the car and peeling wheels to leave death behind.

The red Devil was correct; I did sober up and realized, I had made a complete ass out of myself. My heart sunk as I figured it would be Parkville Senior High all over again, but much worse as most of the girls at R.I.S.P. were very tight. To me, I was again a stupid asshole who ruined the rest of his year there.

I just got into the school, and the red Devil was right in the stairwell and she sure looked like she had something to say. She said it too, "Hi Mike."

"What?"

"Ah ... I said, 'Hi, Mike.' Well?"

"Ah, hi."

I was thankful that she had a forgiving nature, but figured I was disgraced with the rest of the girls at school. Yet, one at a time walked up and had their say too, "Hi, Mike."

I was not only shocked, but very touched and as every lady said, "Hi," to me. I started to tear up, because this never happened to me before, and I didn't believe I deserved it. Finally, the Dorm Bitch walked up to me and demanded, "Mike, what's going on with you. You are really acting funny with us."

"Well, you're all so nice to me. I don't understand why, because I acted like a royal asshole at the party."

"Mike, did it ever occur to you that you weren't the only one drunk at the party? That's the fun of it all, we all acted like drunken assholes. Get over it; you sure had your fun."

Sitting downstairs before class was the girl that I danced with and I understood what the Devil said about me sobering up, as I could only think to myself, "Jesus Mike, the rest of her is big too. Wow, no wonder you melted into her, but you know what, she was nice to you and she is cute. Come on, be a friend."

I walked up and said, "Hi," but she didn't hear me. After trying to talk to her several more times to no avail, I waved my hand in front of her face to still, no response. I then sat beside her and tried to hold a conversation. After several minutes of talking to myself, I left her due to my state of confusion.


The black and white darkroom was located in the basement and by the door were the trays of chemicals for developing the photographic paper. Behind it where rows and rows of enlargers, which is where you put you negative and project it downward on to an easel to make your photographic print. Because of the 4x5 inch negatives, the enlargers were fairly huge and enclosed in a cubical that was open to your back.

Usually you processed film, during the studio classes so you can see how they turned out. You use enlarger room during the darkroom portion of the class schedule. I was working on a print, when I dropped my grain magnifier on the floor. In the course of picking it up, I saw the nicest feminine butt that ever caught my attention.

Being so enamored, it became a point of study, as I drifted off to a lustful state of being. I was brought back to reality with someone petting my head. It was the Devil herself and I felt like pure crap for being an asshole twice. I had a feeling that she sensed my regret and took a humorous tact.

She said, "You know, I am beginning to like you, you're so cute down there, I think I will take you home with me and have the other dorm girls have their way with you." She squatted down and rubbed my ears, before laughing and going back to her business.

"You know what? You always get the best of me."

She laughed, "No, the last time, it was my leotards, this time it is the cut of my jeans."

"No, I figure that you are a little soft, but you do have a nice shape. I am also beginning to think that you are a very nice person as well."

Later in the day, I was invited to a party that the dorm girls were holding, and instantly agreed to go. It was a blast, and I shocked everyone with my trick of guzzling grain alcohol, even made a couple of bucks off of it. The trick was more experience of understanding the limit of alcohol as a lethal dose, knowing how much I already drank, or would want to. Also knowing to hold one's breath, for a very long time after the swill. Other than that, be prepared to hold on for the ride.

The girl I danced with was there, and she decided to talk to me again.  So we chatted for a while, until another male student horned in to impress her with her Navy Seal stories. He was on all of these risky, life threatening missions that seemed to me, very movie-like. I knew and met real Navy Seals; you may have to be hero-like on occasion, but never all of the time. Also with a real Navy Seal, you catch him from a mission, and you will feel dead about five different ways.

I couldn't resist, as I yielded my manhood, and asked him the most basic of questions, "I always wondered, what letter detonator cap do you use for setting off C-4 explosive, a C or D cap?"

"That's easy, it's a D." I walked away and left the two love birds together so I wouldn't laugh, considering the detonator caps the military use a numbered system. The Red Devil rescued me and started chatting.

"You know, I should have danced with you, but I wasn't sure if that would have been right since I am going out with someone from home. I don't know ..." The conversation was along the lines of, "He's like this, and he's like that. I don't like this about him, and I don't like that."

I knew I was supposed to be putting arguments on why I would be better for her, but I didn't really think it was my place to break up a relationship, so my heart took over the conversation.

"I have a feeling I should be making the case I am better, but I really don't know him or the situation. For me to give you answers wouldn't be for an honest reason, only a selfish one. I would really love to get to know you better, become friends and do things together."

"You have the answers and maybe it would be better, not to date anyone and go for friendships for a while and let the loves develop. Since I don't know the guy, my honest opinion from what I heard is fairly typical behavior for a guy that age. I wouldn't worry about things, unless he stops coming back to, or caring for you." While we never spent time together, I noticed that I bumped up a notch on her love scale.

When I said I was ready to leave, the girl that I danced with walked me out. I just had to try one more time and asked to kiss her. This time, there was no fireworks, but at least I was able to give more than I got.

The next Monday, I saw the girl that I danced with at school and it was an exact repeat, as the time before. She wouldn't talk to me, she wouldn't look at me. Totally amazed at this, I sat down and tried to talk to her again.

I think that I said things right this time, "You know what, I would have loved nothing more than to be considered a friend, but it wouldn't be a good relationship if you had to be drunk all of the time to be my friend. My advice to you is, stick with the Navy Seal. He'll at least be able to make you a great omelet."