why I love my professor

Today Lesbian Bartender came to visit my classes, which was fun to see things through her eyes. In the third class, I went to the professor and asked if there were any empty seats. There are not, so he said to have her snag one of the seats in the back row where usually there is an absentee.

I told her to chill in my seat (right in front of him, in the second row) for a few minutes until we saw who did and didn't show up, and then I went to the restroom.

When I came out, the professor was waiting in the hallway. I got a crooked gesturing finger and I looked around. You talkin to me? I went over and he pulled me to the side, away from the gathering masses. He had a look of concern and consternation, mixed with his apologetic polite ways.

"Would you be so kind as to sit in your regular seat? If your friend is there, it will so discombobulate my brain. Could you move her to the back row so that you are there in your regular seat for me?"

"Sure, no problem."

That is why I love him. I am his Aztec Boy. He often looks at me in class, and he has near pleaded me to come to class on days when I said I might not make it - but I had no idea that it was meaningful to him.

How did he pay me back for conceding to his request? By, when he was explaining JNOV, with his back to me completely, he said, "And for you, Ms. [insert my name here], the O is ..." "Obstante. I already looked it up." Son of Deepo Provero Inventor gave me high five for quick comeback,. but his slight snideness did not phase or disarm me.

Because it's like we are in a private class and more in dialogue than auditorium. I just didn't know he felt the same way.

Charisma, as my Beloved Advisor taught me, is making people whom you don't know feel that you do know them. It's a teaching skill I mastered convincingly enough after becoming metacognitive of it. But I know the game, and I thought I was just another face to Beloved Professor here.

Nope, I'm the anchor face.

Wait, maybe that's not quite what I mean ...