Jesse’s Sister
“Professor, is that you?” I was walking through the American Airlines concourse at LAX, through security and headed for the gate of my redeye flight headed back east. I was already tired, and annoyed that I would have to connect in O’Hare in the middle of the night. The woman had planted herself in front of me. She was in her mid-20’s maybe, blond hair to the middle of her back, tied in a pony tail for travel. I couldn’t say if she looked familiar or not, having taught hundreds of pretty blond girls over thirty years of college teaching. Like the millennial “bro” boys, they all looked alike after a bit. Not wanting to offend or admit I had no idea who she was, I resorted to my usual “Maybe we’ve met, maybe we’ve …