I’d started the “new” campus in the spring. I was overwhelmingly comforted by knowing I was in my hometown again, teaching at the campus I attended. And while it was no longer a 3.2 hour round trip, it was still a little aggravating that it was a 1.5 hour round trip to the house.

In the first week I was trying to win over the students. It was a very similar situation as the first day at Huntsville. The students favorite teacher had quit (not fired in this case) and an instructor they saw as sub-par had been called in.

The department head was a middle-aged interior decorator. While that sounds like an insult, its meant to paint a picture. Interior decorators are very detailed oriented. Additionally they have to be charismatic in order to sell their vision to their client. Some are bullies that push their clients into environments they never asked for, some are visionaries that give their clients environments they never knew they wanted. And being a middle-aged interior designer means this woman was pretty successful, being able to maintain that career for that long. Jamie Stone.

So its the first week. I’m in the middle of teaching a class. I’m attempting to be charismatic, knowledgeable, inspiring. Right in the middle of a lecture I’m interrupted by a knock on the door. I act as tho I didnt hear it and continue my lecture. Unfortunately the door has a side window and the students can see the person knocking – the head of the CAD department, Renea Brasher. They are familiar with her as she was their temporary advisor until I arrived. They see her knocking, and I’m clearly ignoring her.

Renea keeps knocking. With a deep breath I asked the students to pardon me.

She stated, “Jamie needs your budget for next year.”

Mind you, I’ve only been there for a week.

“I dont know, just tell her I’ll look into it after class.”

“Ok, thanks!”

And she left. I continue my lecture.

Less than five minutes later, Renea is back, knocking on the door – gently.

I stop my lecture.

“Jamie really needs your budget for next year,” she whispers somewhat loudly.

“I dont know what to say, Renea. I have to look at the schedule and the catalog. I have no idea.”

“Ok, thanks!”

And she scurried away.

I turn to my class. Apologize for the interruption. Begin lecture again, and…

She’s back.

I get to the door before she knocks.

“I dont know Renea! I cant even begin to guess!”

“Jamie says she knows, if you could just give me a number we’ll go from there…”

At this point I’ve had enough.

“Five hundred thousand dollars.”

Renea blinked at me.

“What?”

“Five hundred thousand dollars. She wants a number, theres a number.”

“I cant tell her that!”

“Tell her that. Five hundred thousand dollars.”

She blinked at me again, then reluctantly acquiesced.

Did not hear from her again for that class.

Later that afternoon I reviewed schedules and whatnot, determining a slightly more realistic number.