A Project Called Rosie

Six

A knock on the door was heard roughly two hours after Gene left my office with the finished Wife Project questionnaires. Although it is not prohibited, I was weighing student essays; however, I only suspect that no one knew that I was doing it. It was a part of a project to lessen the effort of assessment by seeking out easily measurable parameters, such as the presence of a table of contents or the use of a typed rather than a handwritten cover sheet, which might provide an equally accurate indication of quality as the time-consuming task of reading the entire assignment.

As the door opened, I hid the scales under my desk. When I looked up, I saw an unfamiliar woman standing in the doorway. Her age and BMI, in my estimation, are both thirty.

Who is Professor Tillman?

This wasn't a particularly clever question, seeing as how my name is on the door.

Correct. ".

"Professor Barrow suggested I meet with you. ".

When the woman walked up to my desk, I took a closer look at her because I was so impressed with Gene's efficiency. There were no blatant indications that it was inappropriate. No makeup, as far as I could tell. Her physique and skin tone were in line with her level of fitness and health. She sported heavy-framed glasses that brought back unpleasant memories of Apricot Ice Cream Woman, a long, torn black T-shirt, and a belt made of metal chains. She was sporting a unique pendant around her neck and large metal earrings, so it was a good thing the jewelry query had been removed.

She was dressed in a way that seemed out of keeping with the summertime and my expectations of a highly qualified academic or professional, even though I usually don't pay attention to clothing. I could only assume that she was self-employed or on vacation and had chosen her outfits haphazardly since she was not subject to the dress code at work. I can identify with this.

Since neither of us had spoken in quite some time, I understood that it was now my turn. From the pendant, I raised my head and thought of Gene's instructions.

Why don't we have dinner tonight?

When I asked, she appeared surprised and said, "Yeah, right. Why don't we go to Le Gavroche for dinner, and you pay?

"Excellent. I'll book a table for eight o'clock. m. ”.

You must be joking. ".

It was an odd reaction. I hardly knew this person, so why would I make a perplexing joke?

"No. Is 8 p.m. m. Is this evening alright?

I want to be clear about this. You're willing to pay for my meal tonight at Le Gavroche?

I was starting to believe that this woman was "not the sharpest tool in the shed," as Gene would say, after she asked me my name. I thought about withdrawing, or at the very least using a delay strategy until I could check her questionnaire, but I was unable to come up with a socially acceptable way to do this, so I simply confirmed that she had understood my offer correctly. I came to the conclusion that I didn't even know her name as she turned and walked away.

I dialed Gene right away. He appeared initially a little perplexed, then laughed. He may not have anticipated how well I handled the candidate.

He announced, "Her name is Rosie. "And that's all I have to say to you. Fun to you. Likewise, keep in mind what I said about s*x. ".

It was unfortunate that Gene didn't give me more information because a problem arose. A table wasn't available at Le Gavroche at the scheduled time. On my computer, I looked for Rosie's profile, and for once, the pictures helped. The woman who entered my office did not resemble any of the applicants whose names appeared on the paper responses. His phone was off and Gene was gone.

I was forced to do something that was probably morally questionable but wasn't strictly illegal. I defended it by arguing that breaking my promise to Rosie would be more morally reprehensible. The VIP section of Le Gavroche's online reservation system was available. Using relatively simple hacking software, I logged on and made a reservation under the name of the Dean.

I came in at 7:59. m. A large hotel housed the restaurant. In the foyer, I chained my bike because it was pouring rain outside. Thankfully, it wasn't cold, and my Gore-Tex jacket did a great job of keeping me warm. Even underneath, my T-shirt wasn't wet.

I was approached by a uniformed man. He indicated the bike, but I interrupted him before he could object.

"At 5:11 p.m., I used your reservation system. My name is Professor Lawrence. m. " .

The official just glanced at a clipboard and nodded, making it seem as though he was unaware of the Dean's existence or thought I was a different Professor Lawrence. Even though it was now 8:01 p.m., I was pleased with the efficiency. m. Rosie was absent, too. She might have been (b) seated a little early.

However, a dilemma then emerged.

We have a dress code, sir, I'm sorry to say.

I was aware of this. Men must wear jackets, it stated on the website in bold type.

No food, no jacket, am I right?

More or less, sir. ".

I was prepared to keep my jacket on throughout the meal, but what can I say about this kind of rule? It is likely that the restaurant has air conditioning set at the appropriate temperature.

The official blocked my way as I tried to continue in the direction of the restaurant entrance. "I apologize. Maybe I wasn't very clear. You should don a jacket. ".

"I've got a jacket on. ".

We need a little more formal attire, I'm afraid, sir. ".

As an example, the hotel employee pointed to his own jacket. For support, I offer the definition of "jacket" from the Oxford English Dictionary (Compact, 2nd Edition): "1(a) An outer garment for the upper part of the body. ".

Moreover, I observe that the word "jacket" appears on the cleaning instructions for my relatively new and immaculate Gore-Tex jacket. But it appeared that his definition of a jacket was only a "typical suit jacket. ".

"Sir, we would be delighted to lend you one. in this fashion. ".

You have a supply of jackets? In every size? I chose not to add that the fact that they needed to keep such an inventory was undoubtedly proof that they failed to communicate the rule clearly and that it would be more effective if they changed the rule's language or did away with it entirely. I also failed to mention that the cost of buying and cleaning their jackets would increase the cost of their meals. Did their clients realize they were helping to fund a warehouse for jackets?

He replied, "I wouldn't know about that, sir. I'll put a jacket in order. ".

It goes without saying that the idea of being redressed in a piece of questionably clean public clothing made me uneasy. I was temporarily overcome by the situation's blatant unreasonableness. Preparing for the second meeting with a woman who could end up being my life partner had already put me under stress. And now the institution that I was paying to provide us with a meal—the provider of services that should unquestionably be doing everything in their power to make me comfortable—was placing arbitrary barriers in my path. The official's essentially decorative woolen jacket was being unfairly and obstructionistly contrasted with my high-tech Gore-Tex jacket, which had protected me from the rain and snow. It cost me $1,015 in total, $120 more for the personalized reflective yellow. I gave a summary of my position.

"By all logical standards, my jacket is superior to yours: water resistance, low-light visibility, and storage capacity. "I unzipped the jacket to reveal the interior pockets and continued, "Speed of drying, resistance to food stains, hood. ".

Despite the fact that I almost certainly raised my voice, the official was still not responding in a way that could be understood.

Superior tensile strength by a wide margin. ".

I took hold of the employee's jacket lapel to demonstrate the last point. I obviously didn't mean to tear it, but I was suddenly grabbed behind by an unidentified person who tried to throw me to the ground. I instantly reacted with a safe, low-impact throw to take him out without losing my glasses. A martial artist who can fall gracefully is considered low impact. This person fell heavily because they didn't.

I turned to see him: he was large and angry. I had to sit on him to stop the violence from continuing.

“Get the f**k off me. He declared, "I'll f*****g kill you.

That made it seem illogical to grant his request. At that point another man arrived and tried to drag me off. Concerned that Thug Number One would carry out his threat, I had no choice but to disable Thug Number Two as well. Although nobody was seriously hurt, the situation was extremely awkward and I could feel my mind drifting off.

Rosie, thankfully, showed up.

"Rosie!" was the apparent startled response from Jacket Man.

He knew her, of course. She asked, "Professor Tillman—Don—what's going on?" as she turned her attention from him to me.

“You’re late,” I said. "We have a social issue. ".

Jacket Man asked Rosie, "You know this guy?

"What do you think, I guessed his name?" Rosie sounded belligerent and I thought this might not be the best approach. Without a doubt, we ought to seek an apology and depart. We wouldn't be eating in the restaurant at this point, I assumed.

A small crowd had gathered and it occurred to me that another thug might arrive, so I needed to work out a way of freeing up a hand without releasing the original two thugs. While doing so, one of them poked the other in the eye, which clearly enraged them. The Jacket Man continued, "He attacked Jason. ".

Right," Rosie retorted. Jason is a loser. victimization is a constant. I was able to see her now. She had on an unadorned black dress, thick-soled black boots, and a colossal amount of silver jewelry on her arms. Her red hair was spiky like a brand-new variety of cactus. Though I'd heard the word "stunning" used to describe women, this was the first time I'd actually been left speechless by one. It wasn't just the outfit, the jewelry, or any other aspect of Rosie that made a difference; it was the overall impact of everything. I wasn't sure if the restaurant that had turned down my jacket would even consider her appearance to be conventionally beautiful. The word "stunning" was entirely appropriate. What she did, however, was even more amazing. She retrieved her phone from her bag and held it in our direction. Two times it flashed. Jacket Man stepped forward to wrest it from her.

Don't you ever think about it, Rosie commanded. These guys won't ever stand on a door again thanks to the fun I'm going to have taking these pictures. Professor gives bouncers a lesson. ".

A man wearing a chef's hat arrived as Rosie was speaking. Rosie asked me to release my attackers after he had a brief conversation with Jacket Man and Rosie and assured them that we could leave without being hassled. We all stood to our feet, and as is customary, I bowed before extending my hand to the two men, whom I assumed to be security guards. They had only been performing the tasks for which they were paid, and in the course of those tasks, they had put themselves in danger. It seemed that they were not expecting the formalities, but then one of them laughed and shook my hand, and the other followed his example. It was a good resolution, but I no longer felt like eating at the restaurant.

I collected my bike and we walked into the street. Rosie wasn't angry, which surprised me because I had anticipated her to be. I enquired about her relationship to Jacket Man.

"I had a job there before. ".

“You selected the restaurant because you were familiar with it?”.

"You could put it like that. I wanted to stick it up them. She started laughing. “Maybe not quite that much. ".

I told her that her solution was brilliant.

She stated, "I work in a bar. The Marquess of Queensbury is more than just a bar. I deal with jerks for a living. ”.

I pointed out that if she had arrived on schedule, she could have used her social skills and the violence would have been unnecessary.

“Glad I was late then. That was judo, right?” .

"Aikido. ” As we crossed the road, I switched my bike to my other side, between Rosie and me. “I’m also proficient in karate, but aikido was more appropriate. ”.

"No way. It takes forever to learn that stuff, don't you think?

“I commenced at seven. ”.

“How often do you train?”.

“Three times per week, except in the case of illness, public holidays, and travel to overseas conferences. ”.

“What got you into it?” asked Rosie.

I pointed to my glasses.

“Revenge of the nerds,” she said.

“This is the first time I’ve required it for self-defense since I was at school. It’s primarily for fitness. ” I had relaxed a little, and Rosie had provided an opportunity to slip in a question from the Wife Project questionnaire. Do you regularly work out?

"Depending on what you call frequently. ” She laughed. “I’m the unfittest person on the planet. ”.

“Exercise is extremely important for maintaining health. ”.

"My dad tells me this. He’s a personal trainer. Constantly on my case. As a birthday present, he gave me a gym membership. At his gym. He thinks it would be a good idea for us to train for a triathlon together.

“Surely you should follow his advice,” I said.

“f**k, I’m almost thirty. I don’t need my dad telling me what to do. ” She changed the subject. “Listen, I’m starving. Let’s get a pizza. ”.

I was not prepared to consider a restaurant after the preceding trauma. I told her that I intended to revert to my original plan for the evening, which was cooking at home.

“Got enough for two?” she asked. “You still owe me dinner. ”.

This was true, but there had been too many unscheduled events already in my day.

“Come on. I won’t criticize your cooking. I can’t cook to save my life. ”.

I was not concerned about my cooking being criticized. But the lack of cooking skills on her part was the third fault so far in terms of the Wife Project questionnaire, after the late arrival and the lack of fitness. There was almost certainly a fourth: it was unlikely that her profession as waitress and barmaid was consistent with the specified intellectual level. There was no point in continuing.

Before I could protest, Rosie had flagged down a minivan taxi with sufficient capacity for my bike.

“Where do you live?” she asked. ”.