–***–
The two men were walking on the footpath towards one of Jim's most frequent hangouts, the Texas Longhorn Steak House. It had the advantage of being a bit too expensive for most students, so you would always get a table.
"So, your name is Spock? Do you have a first name to go with that?"
"I do have another name, but since I have found it hard to pronounce for English-speaking individuals, I normally refrain from using it." Jim glanced up at his face with a slight smile. The English was flawless, indeed a bit too flawless. Foreign exchange, then. Jim pointed to the red-and-blue sign ahead.
"Right there."
"Do they have a vegetarian alternative?"
"No, I don't mean that one, the next one right behind it. Govindas." Smooth, Jim, smooth. Having been around the block a few times, Jim knew how to make a date feel comfortable. Not that this was a date. No.
Govindas was packed, and they would have been standing in line for a long time had Jim not been recognised by a former student now working as a waiter. The youngster placed them at a table by the window and handed them the menus. He took a pencil he kept stashed in his largest ear gouge and wrote down their order. Spock looked at the waiter's extended ear lobes but said nothing. Jim looked around and took in the pseudo-indian decor. He hadn't been here for a while, maybe a year. Not a bad place. When he had been dating the lady from Creative Arts he had had lunch here with her every day. What a dame that had been. She looked all ethereal and innocent, but had hidden depths. Ruth. Once, she had convinced Jim to model for her croquis class. She had flattered him and he hadn't been very hard to persuade. But then, as soon as he was standing there without his clothes, she had gone to stand at the back of the room where the students couldn't see her, and flashed him her boobs. She had fondled them, too, and of course Jim had gotten hard in no time at all. In front of the class.
The affair had ended shortly after that.
Well, Jim thought to himself. At least I don't have to worry that my company today will pull a stunt like that. But the mind is a strange thing. The image of Spock with a sketchbook and a charcoal, studying Jim in detail, presented itself. The fantasy was complete with Jim's erection and all, and when the waiter returned with the soup, Jim didn't notice him. Lost in thought and trying to shift his now real erection around without being seen, it was instead Spock who had to hint that Jim needed to give the waiter room to set the plates down. Curried lentil soup.
–***–
As is the custom when university folks get talking, the conversation soon focussed on teaching.
"I have had the misfortune to assign a failing grade to 85.2% of the students in my class."
"Wow, that's a lot! Is your subject really that difficult?"
"I do not think so. I find it a thing of beauty and most logical. I show them how the derivations are done, and how they can not be done any other way. Yet they are not able to do this by themselves. I find it disappointing."
"Can't you make it easier to remember? Appeal to their senses?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, this is my favourite example: notchweed. You know it? It's also called stinking goosefoot. There are plenty of species of goosefoot, Chenopodium, and many of them smell bad. So what I do is, I pick some and hand them out. The students get to smell them and to describe the smell. They answer that they smell foul, a bit like fish gone bad. Then I tell them that the full name is Chenopodium vulvaria! Linnaeus sure knew what he was talking about." Jim slapped the table and leaned back laughing. Spock, however, was silent.
"I believe I don't, as you say, 'get it'." Kirk stopped laughing and cleared his throat.
"Well . . . the name is vulvaria. As in vulva."
"I see. Vulva as in external female genitalia?"
"Yes."
"I still don't see the connection." Spock looked curious. Jim was now blushing. He felt like he had been asked to explain to his mother why he had been cursing at the dinner table. But this was his best joke, he told it every year!
"Notchweed smells like fish . . . like vulvas do."
"They do?"
"Yes . . . sometimes."
"Oh."
Spock raised one eyebrow and took the last sip from his glass of water. "Yes, I see. Surely the students find that easy to remember. I think your subject lends itself to this kind of mnemonic aids more than mine does."
Thankfully lunch was now over. Jim wanted to get back to his room as soon as possible and never make a fool of himself in front of this cool collected genius again. He had made an ass of himself but at least it was over. They walked back to the clock-on-a-spike and shook hands. Jim said goodbye and turned to leave, but Spock touched him on the shoulder with a finger.
"Would you available for lunch again next Friday? I found it pleasant to have company."
"You did?"
–***–
