Truth be known, I don’t know why she doesn’t like the nickname “Buffy.” I have always associated that name with women who will do what it takes – assertive women who inspire loyalty, whose friends will go through hell for them. But she clearly doesn’t share that impression.
As a young college professor I admit you’d have to be dead not to notice the beautiful young women who passed through my classroom. Sometimes that beauty arouses a passing fantasy, but it never occurred to me to act on the attraction until Buffalo Springsteen took her place at a desk.
It was the first day of the semester in S4Y 140, and I was going through the roll. I don’t care to do things in alphabetical order – go figure! – so the third or fourth name I picked was near the end of the alphabet.
“Buffalo Springsteen?”
“Here.”
Now, others who have written about that moment – because it has achieved some place in history now – say that I paused because I was surprised to see the name belonged to a woman. Well, that’s not true, because the screen clearly said “Springsteen, Buffalo – F,” so I knew to expect a female voice.
What I didn’t expect was to have my breath taken away by the face that owned the name. The sea-green eyes, the flaming red hair, the lips that, well, any man would willingly kiss those lips with just the slightest hint of permission from those eyes. And everything south of those lips fit the societal norm of what makes a woman desirable.
So yes, I paused, but it was because I didn’t expect to be filled just that moment with an nearly uncontrollable need. You don’t know how thankful I am that this woman who hit my “lust” button at first sight turned out to be the love of my life.
“Do you go by Buffy?” I inquired, innocently enough. Now, that was the wrong question, and the suddenly seething look on her face told me pretty much right away just how wrong the question was.
“No. I prefer Buffalo,” she said in a tone intended to close the issue once and for all. There was a titter or two among the other students.
“That’s an interesting name for an attractive woman, if you don’t mind my saying so,” I said, bypassing my usual self-censor.
“Thank you,” she said, looking a bit flustered by the “attractive woman” reference. “Some people think my parents were crazy, but I’m proud of the name just as it is.”
“Really.”
“Really,” she said, starting to sound irritated again. “The buffalo is a strong and noble animal, a force to be reckoned with. I like being called ‘Buffalo.’”
“All right, then, Buffalo it is,” I said, and that would have been that, except —
“Oh, come on, ‘Buffy,’ lighten up,” said a male student nearby — near enough that it wasn’t particularly hard for Buffalo to reach out, grab him by the front of the shirt, and draw him so close that the only thing in his field of vision was an astonishingly gorgeous face that a man would die to see that close if it weren’t twisted into such an extremely vicious snarl.
“I really can’t emphasize this strongly enough,” she hissed with polite menace. “Don’t — call — me — Buffy.”
“Hey now, hey, hey,” I strode over and pulled on their shoulders to separate the two students gently. “OK, Ms. Springsteen, you’ve made your point. Let’s have a little more decorum.”
“Jeez, what a psycho,” said the young man, which caused the passionate young woman to lurch in his direction again. Fortunately for him, my hand was lingering on her shoulder and I could pull her back, so she was unable to complete the lurch. She flushed almost as if it felt nice having my hand there. Truth be known, I wasn’t in a hurry to let go.
“I think you’re a little more thin-skinned than you need to be,” I said as I resumed my place in the center of the class. “But I do promise to call you Buffalo, when I’m not calling you Ms. Springsteen.”
By the end of that first class, I had a pretty firm idea who would be spending the rest of her life with me – if this noble, powerful force of nature would allow it.
The great-great-great-something-son of a musical legend had met the great-great-great-something-granddaughter of a musical legend, and they made a baby girl. The name is an homage to their ancestors’ legacy. Not the choice I would have made, perhaps. But she loves her name.
Entry 7
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