Or do they simply not care?
Friday I waited in my office,
for 14 individuals,
lovely lads and lassies
who had signed up for meetings
to discuss their projects.
"More personal," they had said in class,
"one on one," they had cried.
I had tea and lemon,
some stale cookies,
a sheet with their names,
and the times they had requested.
1:00 pm passed and no sign of Jessie.
1:15 pm passed and no sign of Mark.
But at 1:30 they arrived simultaneously.
"We knew you'd be waiting," they said.
2:15 pm's visitor came at 2:26. (Not that I noted it.)
The last person was Leander; he of the comical 3:07 pm time.
At 3:15 pm I left my office, closed the door,
and headed to the parking lot for a trip home.
Leander spied me crossing the quad, I noted it was 3:22 now.
"But," he said, "Where are you going?
You promised me a conference!"
"Yes," I said. "I did. It was 15 minutes ago.
I had the meeting for both of us. It did not go well."
"Huh," he said.
"Exactly," I said.
"I don't understand," he said. "I thought you wanted to help us."
"Do you imagine I'd just sit there indefinitely, waiting?"
He paused, and then said, "I didn't know you'd have anywhere else to go."