I am very fortunate this semester to have class near a coffee shop. I have the luxury of pulling up and jumping off my scooter just a few minutes before class, grabbing a cup of coffee and feeling pretty good about myself. As luck would have it, I was pulling up one morning this past week to an empty meter that had my name all over it. I jumped off my bike and noticed a BU police officer on the other side of the road. I chose to ignore the fact that the said police officer was now on his way over, across the street, looking very purposeful, heading in my direction.
As I was wrapping my chain around the meter, he pulled up along side of me and said, "Excuse me miss, do you have a sticker on the scooter?". "Yes, every two years I have to renew it". He looked grumpy, his face was covered with a thick moustache and great gray eyes that didn't have a spec of kindness to them. I continued on locking up my bike. "You know, you can't park that scooter in the street," he added with a stern bark. "Yes, I know, that's why I park it on the sidewalk". "Scooters are very dangerous, in fact, most kids who drive them really don't know what they are doing," he chimed. He continued to go on and on about how dangerous they were, how many "kids" have no idea how to drive them. Then, he asked if I had a license. I looked at him with a confused knitted brow "Yes, I have a license! I have had one since I've been sixteen". "Well, he said, its only been a few years and you had better beware on that thing."
A few years? Was this guy nuts? As if the fates got tired of watching this guy yank my chain, two of my students rounded the corner. "Oh good morning professor!" "Good morning guys," I said right back. It was just then I noticed the cops face. His face had this shocked look of unbelief and of something else I wasn't able to assess at that moment. He sheepishly looked down and asked quietly, "are you a professor?" Yes, I said, have been for five years". "What is it you teach". "I teach writing, I specialized in academic writing. I could hear him cringing. "My name is Pat, Pat Nunnati, and what is your name, young lady?" My name is Diana, I stated. "You know, I love to write, I'm not so good at it, but I do love it". "That's great" I said. "Listen, I'm sorry about the scooter thing, I thought you were a kid." "Oh, I'm no kid" I said with a forgiving smile on my face. I shook his hand to let him know that there was no hard feelings. As I was walking away from him, he shouted out "you know, if you'd like to get together later for a coffee, I'd really enjoy that".
I waved as I disappeared into the building. As I climbed the stairs I thought to myself, a kid, yeah, right!
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