2007-06-13: Neither Fish Nor Fowl


Grant_icon.gif Kasey_icon.gif

Summary: Kasey meets with Grant in an attempt to figure a few things out. Grant is amazingly unhelpful.

Date It Happened: 13th of June, 2007

Neither Fish Nor Fowl

NYC - Common Grounds

Feminist Theory? It's like saying Jello Hashbrowns really to Kasey /Sarabeth/ Leverman. But the class name stuck out for the young football player and after talking to Rebecca who contacted Judy who texted Ashley who poked Grace on facebook to leave a comment on Jennifer's Myspace for the name and email of the professor for the class? Kasey finally managed to email/call and arrange a meeting with him. Hoping the man would show up. The young woman/man wears his usual loose fitting clothing, deviating from his hoodies to throw a green t-shirt under a jean jacket worn with a pair of baggy jeans and docs (CLEAN!) on his feet, shaggy hair brushed. So he sits at that table with a cup of coffee, a beat up notebook and a chewed on stub of a pencil.

Well this isn't weird. No. Not at all. Grant lingers outside the coffee shop for a few more moments, though only to finish his cigarette rather than putting on a show of reluctance. This whole thing probably isn't so professional, but it /was/ kind of flattering, let's be honest. How much action can media studies feminist theory professors get?

No, not action like /that/. The last thing he needs is yet another damn rumour springing up. Minds, out of the gutter. And into the coffee shop.

After ordering a latte at the counter and asked where he's going to be seated, Grant looks around the shop, unsure of how to recognise exactly who he's meeting. But after noticing the one table that's solitary, with a young man occupying it, he says, "probably that one," to the barista, and heads on over. "Excuse me? Kasey?" he says, placing an uncertain hand on the back of the opposite chair.

Kasey looks up quickly when he hears his name, eyebrows raising as he sees Grant and scrambles to his feet. The chair scrapes back some as he offers a hand, flashing a smile. "Professor Fitzpatrick?" He pauses and quickly sets the pencil down as he wipes his hands off on his pants and offers his hand again. "If not um well, it's still really good to meet you even if I did totally butcher your name dude."

"No. it sounded right to me," Grant says with a vaguely uncertain smile, hand coming out to grip Kasey's - after a miss when Kasey goes to clean his hand off before offering it once more - in a brief handshake. "But 'Grant' works, really." He settles into his chair, gestures for Kasey to go ahead and do the same. He's dressed about as casually as the boy opposite him, with a button down shirt under a suede jacket, slacks and shoes, although with a rather expensive mens' watch adorning one wrist, which he quickly checks. "Hopefully I didn't keep you waiting long."

Kasey chuckles nervously, another wry smile given as he squeezes Grant's hand in that handshake. "Oh thank /god/. I've been trying to keep an eye for any old tweedy looking geezer walkin' through here, hoping for a break." He quickly settles back down into the chair and pauses for a few moments. "…not that you're old." Another pause. "Or a geezer…" Those intense blue eyes lower as he -sighs-. Oh! Look! Conversational saver. "Waiting? Oh no! I mean, not that long. There's this /totally/ hot barrista chick…she's all like…" Hands raise to make an hour glass figure in the air before lowering slowly. "Um. So. Yeah." Pencil stub is picked up and fiddled with.

Or tweedy. This is important. Grant only owns one thing in tweed and makes a point to limit it to that. The 'old' does get a slightly narrowed-eyed look, but it passes. He is, after all, talking to a teenager. Then! He raises an eyebrow when Kasey comments on the totally hot coffee shop lady, and he glances over his shoulder. "I'm sure she'd be flattered to hear that," he says, dryly, and smiles when his coffee is brought over by a helpful coffee shop employee. The sugar on the table in front of him goes untouched, and Grant wraps his hands around the coffee cup. "So," he says. "You— did you want to talk to me about my classes?" Sort of unlikely, now, but he continues with, "The prospectus usually has everything you need to know."

Ahaha…hah. He might as well just shove his foot in his mouth and tape it there. Kasey rubs his hand over his face and closes his eyes for a moment. "…like I'd ever talk to her. Can we say /totally/ out of my league?" He snorts before his lashes flutter, eyes opening. "OH! Your class." He sits up more. "Oh, I know I mean I'm thinking about taking the one about all the feminist stuff but like…" He just looks awkward as he carefully continues. "I just kinda wanted to talk to an expert. Ya know. About…stuff like that? The whole girl thing?"

As Kasey talks, Grant brings his coffee up to sip. He pauses, then sips again, then makes an expression of slight distaste and sets it down, just as the word 'expert' comes up. Ut oh. His eyes widen just a little, and gives a sheepish (or modest, he's hoping) shrug. Perhaps this meeting suddenly makes sense to him, and his smile warms a little more. "I know academics who would clamour to disagree with you over the word 'expert'," he says, "but I guess I know a little about the field, yeah. What is it about the whole girl thing that interests you?"

Kasey waves a hand vaguely and shrugs himself. "Well I mean like, I don't know." He fidgets with the pencil some more. "Um, well you know. How do you really know you're like a girl? Or a woman or whatever? I mean if you're a feminist, you're pretty damn sure you're female right?" He sighs. "I don't know, I'm totally screwing this up with the whole explaining and asking questions hunh?"

The coffee is pushed to the side so Grant can properly fold his arms on the table. "A feminist is someone who wants to further the equality between genders," he says. Then shrugs. "Well. That's one opinion, but a popular one. Or someone who studies the inequality, even." He shakes his head. No need to take the poor kid on that tangent. "And I suppose you know you're a girl if you can call yourself a girl and feel like that fits with what society says is a girl." Wait, what? Odd question to ask, and Kasey gets a bemused look for that one.

Kasey stares blankly at Grant, which shows he's listening. "Hunh." He takes a slow sip of his drink, scratches his head and then carefully sets his drink down. "Well like, equality? Inequality? If you're a girl and you can like pee standing up and then dudes pee standing up then the only real difference is what's actually down there?" A pause. "What I mean is like…oh damn, this is totally more awkward than I thought it would be. I'm about to go to school and play football and it's all going to go to hell. I just know it."

"Kind of," Grant says, after a moment's hesitation. "Being able to, uh, pee standing up isn't really a testament to who you are as a person, is it? Heck, it's just more convenient. Doesn't define gender, just biology." A small smile, as he's not meant to be speaking in such absolutes, but really, he's not in his lecture theatre - he's allowed. Now, however, the smile dims, concern showing. And he actually looks at the person in front of him, rather than just seeing the clothes and the general appearance, and he's suddenly kind of uncertain. "Going to hell and school is usually synonymous," he adds. "But why for you?"

Kasey is quiet, fidgeting before just starting to gather his things, blushing lightly. "Iunno, I mean I'm neither fish nor fowl really and it's going to come up soon, I know it is. I mean which locker room to use aside, it's going to be a mess and I /really/ can't afford going to juvie over losing my temper over the BS I'm going to have to put up with, ya know?"

Grant puts out a hand, not actually touching the… boy? Girl? Kasey. Not actually touching Kasey or his things, it's just a gesture to urge him to stay, if the gathering of pencil and notepad indicate him leaving. "It's gonna come up all over the place," he says, disliking the fact that he only just now hooked on to this just as the conversation seems to be wrapping up. "Not just college, not just with locker rooms." Encouraging, /very/ encouraging. Grant sighs, hand dropping down to refold his arms. "I mean, I just hope that doesn't discourage you from attending or anything like that."

Kasey slows down only to shove his things into this raggedy ass messenger bag, slinging it from a shoulder and shoving his hands into his pockets, lips curving in a small smile. "Nah Professor, I'll be in your class and stuff if I can…" He pauses. "Just look for Kasey Leverman on your roster stuff." Then he's quiet, lowering his eyes. "But College is the first step, you only have two options on the apps. Male or Female." He raises his eyes if only to try to meet Grant's. "Kinda have to make a choice."

His hands lace together, and Grant shrugs, looking a little regretful that he probably doesn't have the answers Kasey had been looking for. "You do," he agrees. "Guess you need to figure out if making a point is worth the legal transitions, questions…" He trails off, shrugs again. "Put down the one that sounds like you."

Kasey's shoulders slump, just a little. It's never easy not finding out what you want to know. But it's even harder asking questions nobody but you can answer. "The one that sounds like me." Kasey chuckles softly and runs his fingers through his hair, picking up his coffee cup in a mock toast. "You know. If this was the island and we had two hot…what's the word old people use? Broads? Yeah, two hot broads like Ginger and Mary Ann, an idiot savant and an old married couple? And then you? You'd end up making something and saving the day using coconuts and a piece of grass. And then I wouldn't have any more questions." He nods slowly. "Ah well, thanks anyhow Professor G, we'll be in touch!" He grins and shakes out his hair before heading for the door, humming the theme song to Gilligan's Island.

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