In college, around 25 years ago, I lived in a private women’s dormitory. Our meals were prepared by professional kitchen staff, but the waiters and dishwashers were young men who were also students at the university. These young men did their work at the dorm in exchange for three meals a day and parking at the dorm. All men were forbidden in the private living spaces of this dorm, and these waiters and dishwashers were the only men tolerated on the premises, and only in the dining hall.
Tracy was a dishwasher–evidently the head dishwasher–and we got to know each other during the spring semester. I had been on a few dates with him and he was very courteous and kind. Our relationship escalated when he invited me to his apartment for dinner. We sat next to each other on the couch after the meal and I threw myself on him in a fit of furious kissing. We enjoyed that simple pleasure and said goodnight.
This story isn’t about that encounter, but instead describes what happened the next time we met.