Welcome To The Bitchery
Welcome To The Bitchery

I live and work in a fairly small town. I know better than to go places after the gym, or if I’m not dressed in a way that I’m prepared to see people. (I ran into a dean at Target on my first weekend here. She was very much weekend-attired and looked mortified to see an employee.) So today, my lunch break rolled around at 3:30, and I decided to do a quick grocery run at Target (we don’t have regular grocery stores, which is a sad story for another time. They do sell alcohol in store, which is different than my last two states, so I try to keep my whining to a minimum). They had an end-cap of wine with a funny label, so I bought a bottle. I might make frosé so that I can pretend to be basic but on vacation.

I have several students who work at Target, but didn’t remember seeing any of them. They have a common class during that hour, so it’s a safer time to buy unmentionables. Or so I thought.

I made it back to campus at 4:30, wine stashed safely in my trunk.
By 4:45, several students had swung by the office to comment, “Dr. Fluter, getting DRUNK tonight, huh?”

I have no idea who saw me or snapchatted about it, but it’s out there. I think it means they mostly love me, and it’s still creepy A.F.

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