I loved his voice. Most girls did. He flirted with my friend T. and me in a college history class. He flirted with every female in the room and we flirted back–because of that voice. He looked like a tough guy ready to break someone’s leg if ordered.
On a Saturday night in the spring I went to a fraternity party. He was security at the front door. We chatted as he checked my ID, and then I went in to dance. Later, I heard what happened back at the door.
A girl who’d been behind me in line handed him her ID. “Do you know her?” she asked him about me. “She’s an RA in my building. She’s such a bitch.”
There in his security uniform he looked at her calmly. “Yeah, I know her. She’s my sister.”
Ha! From then on several girls in the dormitory believed I had a cop for an older brother. I saw no reason to set them straight.
When you’re sending your work out into the world, it helps to have someone in your corner. We need critical readers who point out the crap and we need people who will cheer us on in spite of the crap. Who defends this crazy creative dream of yours? Is your defender someone you’d expect or a surprise? And really–are you cheering someone on yourself?