Oddball

In the early part of the morning, I attended to business in the office. I didn’t get to see any of the other English teachers. None of them had classes until ten o’clock, though one or two usually arrived before then to make copies or print work sheets.
At five to eleven, I went out to the front office where the copy machine was and saw Dario there. I said good morning, but he just nodded.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Oh, you’re in a talking mood now?” he asked. “See when I offer to give you another lift.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You wouldn’t say anything last night.”
“At the party?”
“No, afterward, when I drove you home.”
“Drove me…what? But you left before I did.”
“Yes, but as I told you, the other party didn’t pan out. I was driving home when I saw you walking along the boulevard. You were so out of it, I guess you don’t remember.” Then he laughed. Being drunk was obviously more forgivable than being antisocial.
“What was I wearing?” I asked.
“The same clothes you had on at Angela’s. What are you talking about?”
“The same white shirt?”
“Yeah. Listen, I can’t talk now,” he said, “I got a class to teach. See you later.” He grabbed his copies and went toward the door. Suddenly he turned and said, “What do you think about Yolanda? I mean what do you think my chances are with her?”
“Chances?” I asked. “Well, first off, I think you’ll have to learn her language. You didn’t speak to her very much.”
“We did, a little. She’s not hard to speak with. She likes to keep things simple. In fact, she told me something doctors often use when making diagnoses. ‘When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras.’”
“I guess you two had more of a conversation than I was aware of,” I said.
“Sure. We spoke quite a bit. Where is your head these days?” He glanced at his watch. “Hey, I’d better get going,” he said, “ I’m going to be late. I’ll see you later when you take a cigarette break.”
I had a class also, but it didn’t go well. My mind was on other things. I knew the cue ball colliding with the eight ball causes the eight ball to roll into the pocket. I had always felt as if I were the cue ball, but suddenly I was feeling like the eight.