March 3, 2000

No matter how many times I checked my math, the answer came out the same.

My roommate Scott heard me groan, and asked, "What's wrong?

,"I flunked my Calculus II mid-term exam so badly that, even if I get straight 100s for the rest of the semester, I'll still lose my scholarship. Without it, I don't see how I can come back in the fall." There was no way I could pay my tuition at a private liberal arts college like Murchison U, and my parents wouldn't help much.

 Scott let out a low whistle.  "Damn!” he said. “What are you going to do?"

“Transfer to UT or A&M, I guess.”

I was not going to do what my father wanted, and follow in his footsteps in the concrete and masonry business.  Yeah, he had worked his way up to owning his own company, which would be an advantage to me, but the amount of time he didn't spend with his family, and bad knees by age 40  did not appeal.

And that's why I was dependent on my scholarship.  My father paid no more of my tuition than the local junior college would charge.

“That sucks. I wanted to room with you again next year.  You‘ve been a good roommate.”  He went back to studying, then a few minutes later said, “You need a cougar.”

“A what?”

“A cougar.  A rich woman to pay your bills.  The female equivalent of a sugar daddy.”

“Oh, stop it!"  I yelled, "How the heck could I attract a woman like that?"  I was, after all, a scrawny, somewhat nerdy engineering major.  "Besides, sex for money? That's just wrong!"

He just smiled and went back to his studying,

A few days later, he flashed me a big grin and showed me a Craigslist ad.  “Cougar wanted,” it said.  “Nice but shy SWM, NS, college student seeks …”  I didn’t bother reading the rest.  "Come one!” I said.  “Did you do that?”

“Yep!  And you have a response already!”

It took him a few days to convince me to let him reply for me.  The next day, he told me that I had a lunch date Saturday at a Riverwalk café.  I almost didn’t go, but I figured, what did I have to lose?

And that is how I met Ashley.  I was wearing my best jeans, a halfway decent button-down shirt, and a tie.  I was a few minutes late.  I’d like to say it was because I missed a bus connection, but it was mostly because I had trouble getting the knot in my tie straight.

The Riverwalk is an entertainment district one level below the street.  The San Antonio River has walkways on both sides, lined with restaurants, bars and shops.  Years ago, the City of San Antonio was going to bury the river through downtown.  A group of insightful women saw that it could be more and convinced the city to do otherwise.  Now it's a major part of downtown.

I walked down the steps from the street and saw a slender woman sitting at a table set for two.  Her back was to me, so my first impression was tawny blond hair gathered in a silver clip at neck level, and hanging about halfway down the back of her white silk blouse.  She was wearing a denim skirt just barely too short and tight for modesty, and cowboy boots.

I walked up to the table, and she smiled up at me.  “Are you Zach?” she asked.  Her eyes matched her blue topaz pendant and earings.  She was somewhere in her mid-thirties, and very attractive, but not quite gorgeous.  That was a relief.  I'm always awkward and tongue-tied around beautiful women.  “Yes, ma’am,” I replied.

“Then, have a seat.  And lose the tie,” she said.  “And call me Ashley.”   I was glad she told me to take the tie off.  I hate wearing ties.  They feel like an inverted noose around my neck. 

We spent a while on small talk until the waiter came over. She ordered something Italian-sounding and a glass of wine for me.  I started to say that I was under 21, but she silenced me with a look.  The waiter  didn't ask any questions.

The meal was delicious.  It was a mixture of fresh vegetables, pasta and steak in a red sauce.  Not a jar sauce you’d buy down in the HEB supermarket, but a sauce made from freshly diced tomatoes, herbs and spices, and red wine.  We chatted some more while finishing out meals.  After the waiter cleared the plates, her demeanor changed.  Suddenly all business, she asked, “So, Zach, what do you want from me?”

Instantly, a cat got my tongue. I had no idea what to say. Eventually, I managed to tell her the story about failing my Calc mid-term, losing my scholarship and my roommate’s solution.

“So, you’re looking for someone to pay your way through college,” she said.

“I don’t know what I’m looking for, ma’am.  It‘s just that I like Murch U.  I want to finish my degree there, and I don‘t know how to pay for it.  When Scott said he had set up the date with you, I figured I could always say no if I felt uncomfortable about it.  At worst, I would be out an afternoon and the price of lunch.”

“I told you not to call me ma'am.  What’s Scott’s phone number?” she asked, pulling a high-end phone from her purse.  I told her, and she called him.  First, she verified that Scott had indeed placed the Craigslist ad and set me up.  Then, she asked all sorts of questions about me like she was checking a job candidate’s references.  She thanked Scott, put her phone in her purse, then looked at me for several long, awkward minutes.

"Does Dr. Cotton still teach calc?"

"Yeah.  He's my professor."

“Don't feel bad.  His mid-term convinced me to change my major from Physics to Business."  She paused a moment, then continued.

"I like you, Zach.  I’ll tell you what.  I could use a personal assistant.  Would you want to work for me part time?  Your tuition is paid through the end of the semester, right?  Let’s consider that your probation.  If we get along, you work hard for me, and you pull up your Calc grade as best you can, I’ll think about sponsoring you for the fall semester.  If it doesn‘t work out, well, my old roommate works for  the A&M Admissions Office.”

Had I known what it would lead to, I probably would have declined.  But, you know what? Looking back, I'm actually glad I didn't.