Clearly, I overplayed my hand in getting permission to go to Chicago for New Year's Eve. TC returned as the task master on this topic.
"I don't think I've ever heard you so giddy about something before?", TC intones. He suspiciously ask "Chris – can I trust you in Chicago?" Of course, Prof. Tim is there! "You two are the gay equivalent of Bonnie & Clyde". We need to talk about business stuff. "And you can't do that on the telephone?". You know me, I'm all talk. "Yeah like the time you talked yourself into a sleepover with someone in DC." OK – that's over the line, we agreed that was in the past.
What results is TC is fast at work formulating a list of do's and mainly don't that includes an entire communications plan. No sleepovers. No sexual misconduct ("I did not have sex with that man"). No excessive pawing. No heavy make-out sessions. He goes on that I need to be easily reachable at ALL TIMES on my mobile phone. Further, I must check in at regular intervals. Finally, he's planning on having a chat with Prof. Tim about monitoring my behavior and holding Tim personally accountable for my actions (I think he has some inappropriate pictures of Tim in London).
Well how the hell am I supposed to have any fun with and these rules? Gez – why don't you just lock me in the closet and bind me up with duct tape while you're at it.
Ah … this is the Tiger Cub I know and love.