I’m a professional. Yeah, pep talks are good. That was a good one, Ace . “Right. I can do this. And I will not allow myself to cross any lines. She’s my student. I am her professor.”
Lying bastard.
I shake my head while powering down my laptop. Looking up, I’m in time to catch my buddy Mercer entering behind a small crowd. Thank Christ. I need his distraction. Mercer waves an imaginary mug, offering to grab me another. I nod, mouthing my thanks as he joins the long line of coffee-seeking enthusiasts.
Mercer Reynolds and I have been friends since our first day of university. Having been assigned as roommates at the University of Western Ontario, we hit it off immediately and have stayed in touch since. He’d been trying to get me to transfer to U of T since he started teaching here four years ago. Mercer has his Ph.D., and is head of the kinesiology department.
Dr. Reynolds has been a big help in getting me settled here. I managed to rent an apartment in the same building as he and his sister, Chelsea, in Toronto’s Annex neighbourhood, which turned out to be the perfect location because it’s close to both work and enough places to eat, shop, and have an active social life when I choose. Not one for serious relationships, living in Toronto will be great for casual dating and hooking up when the urge hits.
Between my job and my own filmmaking, I’ve not had time to pursue any kind of long-term relationship in years, despite my grandparents’ wishes. Growing up as an only child, I was raised by my grandparents after both of my parents died in an avalanche while heliskiing at British Columbia’s Blue River. Being my only remaining living relatives, they raised me from the age of twelve on. It took a long time to adjust to life with my Grandma Lily and Grandpa Paul, but we all survived in the end and I wouldn’t be where I was today without them. We didn’t always have a lot, but they loved and supported me regardless.
Mercer pulls me from my thoughts, placing a steaming mug of coffee and some cream pods in front of me. “Hey, big guy. How’s it hanging this fine morning?”
“So far, so good. I finished assigning advisor groups for my master’s thesis students. I need to get the preliminary meeting started next week to make sure everyone’s on track, knows his or her direction. I need to weed out the idiots, save the ones with potential, you know…the norm”.
“Sounds fun. I still can’t believe you wanted that class. Seems like way too many extra hours, if you ask me. Sports medicine is where it’s at, brother. I get to workout anytime I want, and I personally keep our national teams fit and safe.”
I laugh, “Yeah, you’re a regular Dr. Feelgood.” We both chuckle.
“How goes the documentary? Now, that’s the real question,” Mercer asks, taking a sip of what I assume is his usual, a triple-shot latte.
“It’s good. I’ve got a few more interviews lined up, and I met with Alice and her pimp, Sly, last week. We wrapped up their interviews, and I was able to shoot a couple of vignettes about the life of an illegal prostitute here in the city. So, yeah, it’s going really well. Thankfully, I’ve not run into anything too dangerous or involving the police thus far.”
“That’s…awesome. I can’t imagine following a pimp and ho downtown at night, though. Must have been scary, even for a big boy like you. Maybe we need to buy you some pepper spray?” he teases, striking a nerve with the “ho” comment.
“Hey, man. I’m tough, downtown is my playground at night.” We both laugh, “But be nice, shithead. Alice is a sweet lady; don’t call her a ‘ho’. She’s doing what she needs to get by, and no little girl grows up wishing she might one day be a prostitute. You wouldn’t believe the desperate shit these women have to do to support themselves, or the ones they love. Alice isn’t like Chloe, the other prostitute I interviewed. Alice isn’t doing this to support a
Lying bastard.
I shake my head while powering down my laptop. Looking up, I’m in time to catch my buddy Mercer entering behind a small crowd. Thank Christ. I need his distraction. Mercer waves an imaginary mug, offering to grab me another. I nod, mouthing my thanks as he joins the long line of coffee-seeking enthusiasts.
Mercer Reynolds and I have been friends since our first day of university. Having been assigned as roommates at the University of Western Ontario, we hit it off immediately and have stayed in touch since. He’d been trying to get me to transfer to U of T since he started teaching here four years ago. Mercer has his Ph.D., and is head of the kinesiology department.
Dr. Reynolds has been a big help in getting me settled here. I managed to rent an apartment in the same building as he and his sister, Chelsea, in Toronto’s Annex neighbourhood, which turned out to be the perfect location because it’s close to both work and enough places to eat, shop, and have an active social life when I choose. Not one for serious relationships, living in Toronto will be great for casual dating and hooking up when the urge hits.
Between my job and my own filmmaking, I’ve not had time to pursue any kind of long-term relationship in years, despite my grandparents’ wishes. Growing up as an only child, I was raised by my grandparents after both of my parents died in an avalanche while heliskiing at British Columbia’s Blue River. Being my only remaining living relatives, they raised me from the age of twelve on. It took a long time to adjust to life with my Grandma Lily and Grandpa Paul, but we all survived in the end and I wouldn’t be where I was today without them. We didn’t always have a lot, but they loved and supported me regardless.
Mercer pulls me from my thoughts, placing a steaming mug of coffee and some cream pods in front of me. “Hey, big guy. How’s it hanging this fine morning?”
“So far, so good. I finished assigning advisor groups for my master’s thesis students. I need to get the preliminary meeting started next week to make sure everyone’s on track, knows his or her direction. I need to weed out the idiots, save the ones with potential, you know…the norm”.
“Sounds fun. I still can’t believe you wanted that class. Seems like way too many extra hours, if you ask me. Sports medicine is where it’s at, brother. I get to workout anytime I want, and I personally keep our national teams fit and safe.”
I laugh, “Yeah, you’re a regular Dr. Feelgood.” We both chuckle.
“How goes the documentary? Now, that’s the real question,” Mercer asks, taking a sip of what I assume is his usual, a triple-shot latte.
“It’s good. I’ve got a few more interviews lined up, and I met with Alice and her pimp, Sly, last week. We wrapped up their interviews, and I was able to shoot a couple of vignettes about the life of an illegal prostitute here in the city. So, yeah, it’s going really well. Thankfully, I’ve not run into anything too dangerous or involving the police thus far.”
“That’s…awesome. I can’t imagine following a pimp and ho downtown at night, though. Must have been scary, even for a big boy like you. Maybe we need to buy you some pepper spray?” he teases, striking a nerve with the “ho” comment.
“Hey, man. I’m tough, downtown is my playground at night.” We both laugh, “But be nice, shithead. Alice is a sweet lady; don’t call her a ‘ho’. She’s doing what she needs to get by, and no little girl grows up wishing she might one day be a prostitute. You wouldn’t believe the desperate shit these women have to do to support themselves, or the ones they love. Alice isn’t like Chloe, the other prostitute I interviewed. Alice isn’t doing this to support a
Similar Books
