“I Got You Babe” – Sonny & Cher
The Student Union, more familiarly called the Hub was centrally located in the older part of the campus. It was a single-story brick building covered with vines and surrounded by trees. It was a place to meet when your next class wasn’t on the other side of campus or you didn’t have to go home. It was affordable compared to off-campus even if it offered a limited menu of fast food, soft drinks and coffee. The food wasn’t anything special, but the place was operated by the fine folks that brought every dorm rat their twenty meals every week, so it was nutritious and had generous portions. For some, it was even a place to bring a date on a weekend night after the free flicks at Bowman Hall a couple of blocks away.
Kent was widely known as a suitcase college which meant that most of the students returned to their parents’ home each weekend. During the week, the Hub provided them with a warm, dry place to sit and read or to hang out with friends between classes. The university-run bookstore was on the lower level which made it even more convenient to drop in to pick something up before or after class. There weren’t a lot of options for books and supplies. The campus bookstore and its off-campus private enterprise rival, Dubois, were the book cartels of the first order.
Suffice it to say, it was hard to find a seat most days from late morning through early evening. As with most fraternities, it took only one brother to capture a booth by 10 a.m. and like a well-rehearsed Olympic relay race, the six-man booth became a pay-as-you-go oasis for twenty to thirty brothers and their girlfriends for the entire day. Many a class registration issue, professor background check, girl problem and even date planning campaigns to avoid no date at all, were resolved in the booths at the Hub.
It was mid-afternoon when Frank and his current girlfriend, Darlene, walked into the Hub and quickly saw the booth that was the current day’s claim. Gary Summers was already there, holding down the space next to the juke box that had a lot of bass and amazingly good sound. Speakers mounted all around the room were always playing current music. This day, the catchy lyrics “In the year 2525 if man is still alive . . .” filled the air as Frank slid into the booth next to Gary.
Frank was way short of six foot tall and thin with typical Italian coloring. Swarthy skin, black hair and dark brown eyes attracted women like flies. Not only was he handsome, but his parents owned a major wholesale fruit and vegetable distributing company in the area and Frank always came to school every September with a brand new Mustang convertible. Right now he was really stoked on Darlene who was also Italian, Catholic, thin and had a body that wouldn’t quit. Everyone, even Frank, agreed she was a little quicker mentally than he was. He found her funny, even challenging.
Gary, who didn’t have the looks and humor Frank had, made up for it with his balls. If anyone ever believed the worse a girl could say was “no”, believed it to his very core, it was Gary. After three years of jumping from girl to girl, Gary was sitting there with Mary Johnson, the same girl he had been with since last spring. Surely, this was some kind of miracle because Gary could never hold on to anyone for more than a weekend.
Frank waited for Darlene to sit across from Gary and then slid in beside her. “Who the hell is that next to you?” he asked, looking at Gary.
Before Gary could speak, Mary glared at Frank. “I know what you’re thinking, but this man has changed. Today is our six month anniversary.”
“Congratulations,” Darlene said warmly. “Frank and I are one year this homecoming.” She slid closer to Frank.
“I think we lost control, man,” Frank stated flatly. “Hey, can you find me a girl?”
“What?” Darlene slapped Frank’s shoulder.
He draped his arm around her shoulder and gave her a little hug. “Not for me. I’ve got you, babe. It’s for a guy I’m trying to get to pledge this quarter, and I told him we could fix him up for the welcome back party next weekend.”
“Anything special?” Gary asks.
Looking at Mary, Frank answered, “Not as pretty as Mary. I don’t want you to be tempted.”
Just then Ben Martin, the newly re-elected chapter president walked in, slammed his books on the table and plopped down next to Mary in the booth.
“What’s your problem, Bozo?” asked Frank.
Ben frowned. He wasn’t particularly fond of his nickname, but once someone had been christened, for whatever reason, with a nickname, it stuck at least throughout his college years. Bozo was his, primarily because he was an elementary education major and the general consensus was that even a clown could teach that level. But it was also because his nose always turned bright red whenever he had even one beer or shot.
“I got screwed in registration today. Three hours in line for one class, and I got Dr. McCarthy, the department head, for my student teaching. I’m going to need drugs to get through this. He expects written lesson plans for every class every day and submitted the prior week. I didn’t do this fucking El-Ed shit to work my ass off for those brats,” Ben ranted. “There is no way he’ll agree with my personal philosophy how kids have to be educated which is to let them to educate themselves. I’m an only child and look how smart I am.”
They had heard his weird educational philosophy many times before, so everyone just rolled their eyes and shook their heads except for one.
“That’s awful!” Darlene exclaimed. “In just a few more months, you’re going to be out there, standing in front of a whole roomful of children and telling them to just do their own thing?”
Ben just shrugged. “They’ll be fine. Right now, I’ve got to suffer through Dr. McCarthy.”
Gary chimed in with his own war story. “You think that’s bad? I have one more elective, and all I could get after six hours of standing on the hard floor of Wills Gym, was Accounting 101. That’s one of the seven major flunk-out classes . . . and the guy teaching it died a year ago.”
“A year ago? Isn’t that a little harsh?” Frank scoffed. “Maybe he’s a better bean counter than a speaker, but he couldn’t be that bad.”
“No, he’s really dead. Gone. Six feet under,” Gary explained. “But, apparently, he took forever to die, so they filmed him giving his classes and sent in a teaching assistant to answer any questions. Two hundred kids, one class, one dead professor.”
“Yeah, if you didn’t want to do any work at all, you should have majored in mass communications like Frank here,” Bozo pointed out. “He has no preparation to do, most of what they accomplish isn’t written down, and all they have to do is be funny for a few minutes when it’s their time to talk. Right, Frank?”
“Nothing wrong with that,” Frank said without an ounce of remorse. “I want to be known as a humorist, like Will Rogers. Someone who actually feels bad about something, but makes everyone else feel good when he talks about it.”
“I think something is terribly wrong here.” Gary rolled his eyes. “I’m starting to understand Frank.”
Mary looked confused. “You can explain it to me after he leaves. I don’t want to Goldie Hawn this thing.”
“Goldie Hawn it?” Frank asked.
“You know, on Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In, where in the party skit Goldie would break out into high-pitched giggles seconds after a joke because she didn’t get it until way after everyone else,” Mary explained.
Frank shook his head. “Say good night, Goldie.”
Bozo went on with his rant. “And to make things worse, the officers have a meeting with Brendan tonight. He wants to see our written plan on how we’re going to make sure he gets paid for the house every month.”
“Maybe Gary can help now that he was lucky enough to get into that accounting class,” Frank teased.
Ben stared out over his glasses at Gary hopefully. “This principle, interest, late fees, budgeting stuff is Greek to me. Maybe you could help. You’re a marketing major and.”
“Did I mention that my accounting professor was dead?” Gary reminded him.
“Just tell Brendan he’ll get the money when we have it,” Frank stated.
“Yeah, we’ll get your dad’s mafia to come down on his ass,” Gary agreed.
“Hey, I’m starving.” Frank quickly changed the subject and looked at Darlene. “Let’s get a burger, babe. Anyone want anything?”
Seeing no one else had stopped their conversations, Frank and Darlene left to join the food line.
Ted McCoy, a running back for the Kent State Golden Flashes football team entered the Hub, spotted the group, walked over and sat down across from Ben. “How’s everyone’s registration going? I got all my poly-sci courses.”
“Ted, we’ve got to get back to the house to get ready for Brendan. Tonight’s the welcome-back-to-school meeting,” Ben said with growing anxiety.
“What do you mean get ready? All you have to do is talk. That worked for you last year and for every president before you,” Ted stated with authority.
“He wants an income statement and a balance sheet.” Ben pushed back from the table. “We don’t have those. We don’t even have anyone who knows how to do one of those. Hell, we still haven’t figured out if everyone paid their dues last year, have we?”
Ted, who had gotten elected chapter treasurer two years in a row based solely on his size and popularity, shook his head. As if in sync, the jukebox started to play Suspicious Minds. “Brothers, I’m a pre-law jock. I don’t do math.”
Frank and Darlene returned to the booth with their food, and everyone shifted down to accommodate them. There was immediately a half dozen hands reaching for the French fries which Frank tried to defend.
“While you guys deal with high finance, I’ve still got to find a date for Frank’s rush candidate. Hey, who are those girls?” Gary motioned for Mary to slide out. He quickly crossed the room and approached a group of unattached females. Every now and then he would point toward Frank and the girls would glance over and flash flirtatious smiles. That didn’t make Darlene very happy, but Frank quickly assured her it was just Gary’s way of helping.
About five minutes later Gary returned with a cute girl who was a little over five feet tall, with short brown hair that was cut in a popular smooth bob that was longer in the front, framing her oval face. “Brenda, this is Frank, who has the friend needing a date, his girl Darlene, Mary, my girl, and Bozo, no girl. Everyone, this is Brenda Sovino.”
Frank stood up and motioned for Brenda to sit down.
“Well, we need to go get Mike and Stan and get back to the house.” Ben rose to leave. “Anyone know where they are?”