Saturday, November 14, 2009

It Never Hurts To Ask

On Wednesday, I had business on the campus of Western New Mexico University up in Silver City. After a meeting with my academic advisor, I was to take a piece of paper to the registrar's office on the other end of campus. The directions I was given to take me to this place were on par with a lot of information I get at Western, which is to say that I soon found myself good and lost.

It was odd, and not unpleasant. A rare weekday off, and a beautiful kind of New Mexico fall day, with sunshine, colorful leaves, and warm air -- not a bad time to be lost and wandering. I ran into undergraduates who, curiously, told me they had never even heard of a registrar's office. One wonders if undergraduates are required to take classes. Could it be possible they are allowed to come here, live in dorms, and just make love and drink wine day after day? Sounds nice. I think I tried to get that major myself when I was in college; without much success. I knew where my registrar's office was, all right, because I spent a lot of unpleasant time there.


Wandering around the Western campus last Wednesday, I met a puppy. His name, I overheard, was Socks. Socks was a delightful puppy, with all paws and head and floppy ears, sniffing the feets and slobbering and all those puppy things. We made our acquaintance, the owner called Socks to come along, and we went our separate ways.

After a long meander through various buildings, I was walking back across campus toward the Fine Arts building, and thinking about aborting this mission. The owner of Socks was chatting up a comely co-ed, and Socks was sniffing various things. Our paths crossed again, and Socks was jubilant, all paws and head and slobbering and sniffing the feet.

Since I was pretty much desperate, I said to Socks: "Hey, boy! Do you know where the registrar's office is?"

Suddenly, Socks took off, crimson red leash dragging behind him, down a hill and across a long flat field toward a little building on another side of campus. Arf arf, he indicated the building, and then his owner (who, I presumed, had not succeeded in winning the maiden's phone number) called for Socks to return.

Could it be? I ventured into the building. And wouldn't you know? Sure enough. The registrar's office.

Sometimes it is okay to give the ridiculous a try.


Kelly said...

That's quite a story.

In defense of some undergrads... a lot of "registrar stuff" can be taken care of online. That said, I'll be both of my college kids know where their respective registrar's office is.

Going back to school, Alg?

Pam said...

LOL!!!!!!! Hey, I never underestimate the intuition of any of my 4 furkids!

Ji Hyang said...

I absolutely love this story.

quid said...

Great story!!!