Not long after talking to Roy about the broadcasting school I spoke with my program director about the place. He said they were legit. More importantly, he didn't have a problem with me doing some work for them as long as it didn't detract from my work for the station. I contacted the school, went over to meet the people there and we all hit it off immediately. As it turned out my biggest problem with them would be that they wanted me to work there far more than I could.
I started doing some work with the school towards the end of a term. At that point the 30 or so that started out in a given class had dwindled down to 10 or 12. It was a lot tougher curriculum than people expected and quite a few dropped out. There was a Monday-Wednesday evening section and a Tuesday-Thursday evening section. The Saturday group was one section that had two classes, morning and afternoon on Saturday. So, on any given week there were 3 sections active and on the same lessons. I was staying away from working Saturdays initially so I was seeing two groups of students, the M-W's and the T-Th's. There were a couple of attractive women in one group and zero in the other. I was questioning Roy's acumen regarding women right out of the gate.
We would take a break mid-way during the 6-9:30 PM class. Students and instructors would get a soft drink... go out in the parking lot and smoke... or just stretch their legs. When we would break the guys would usually engage me in conversation about what it was like being on-air and other radio related topics. The two girls would talk to each other. One night I was standing by myself in the parking lot drinking a Coke when one of the girls walked up alone and started a conversation.
Debbie was a lovely young lady. She had very fair skin, almost milky white, with long straight dark red hair. She had an average build and was about 5'6". She said she was born and raised there but I didn't hear any noticeable accent. I knew from her contributions in class that she was bright and well-spoken. We had a nice conversation, about what I can't recall, and then I called the class back inside.
A week later, in a similar circumstance, Debbie approached me again in the parking lot during break. I had talked during a class a week or so earlier, apparently, about photography and she started her conversation with me this time asking me about using a 35mm SLR camera. It seems that her parents had bought her a really good camera for her birthday and, she claimed, she couldn't figure out how to work it. I told her that the only way I could help her with it would be with the camera.
She suggested we get together somewhere away from school so I could teach her how to use her camera. I suggested that I could meet her somewhere on Friday after 5PM or so. She suggested that we meet at my apartment. I was surprised at the suggestion and I told her my place wasn't very nice and the neighborhood wasn't the best.
"That's OK. Just give me the address and I'll be there at six Friday," Debbie said.
I agreed, gave her the address, and warned her again that my place was kind of a dump and that I would be moving in a few weeks.
"I'll be there at 6. I can't wait for you to give me lessons in private, teacher."
She went back into the school building and I finished my Coke.