I wheeled my trolley out to the minibus and he picked up my suitcases as though they didn’t weigh a thing. He seemed quite young for a professor. In...my imagination professors were ancient men with pipes, dressed in tweed, not tall, blonde, muscular cowboy look-alikes. He pointed out some landmarks as we drove and we soon arrived at what looked like a ranch. ‘This isn’t the university?’ I said insecurely. ‘Yes and no, the university owns this ranch and it’s used for all kinds of events. We. .." His tone is unreadable. That evening, she is standing at his door about to knock. She spent the entire afternoon changing her mind about what to wear. She had no sense for what he expected, and her blunder at calling the event a slumber party only complicated things further. In the end, she settled on a tank top and a pair of shorts that were soft enough to pass for pyjamas but stylish enough to pass for real clothes. He answers the door in nearly his usual outfit. The tie and jacket are. More

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