Ms. Northington was sitting still in her office chair looking off into the distance. I was sitting on the corner of her wooden desk looking down on her. She was quietly reflecting on herself.

“What on Earth were you trying to do?” I asked her. She didn’t say anything. I looked around her office. Almost empty - which didn’t matter, she did everything on her computer. There was a couch next to the door, and the place where someone would sit at her desk was in the opposite corner. Behind her was a wall completely made of glass looking up onto the LA skyline. “Nice view. I didn’t notice it the last time I was in here.” I commented. “Oh, yeah,” She swiveled around and tried to distract herself, “It’s beautiful.”

“Anyway,” I got back to what I was doing, “What were you trying to do?” I firmly asked.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

“I mean: ‘I don’t know.’” She insisted. “Okay…” She prepared herself to argue, “Do you really think I am into your mother?”

“You’re like the fourth person who’s asked me that today.”

“…What?”

“Okay, like the third.”

She shook her head in confusion “Hold on, that was-”

“But I know you, okay? You had to have had some greater intention.”

“But I didn’t. I just… I just felt something and acted on it. I wasn’t in control of myself…”