dave and I are at notre dame � for no particular reason, it seems � and we see an ad in the paper for a party. other people we know are there � matt, for one � who are going to another party that night. we say we�ll meet up with them. so we head to this dorm where the party is supposed to be, only to find just two girls when we knock on the door. one, a pretty blonde who unfortunately looks like the college ex, colleen, is the one I hit it off with right away. her name is colleen (damn!) mccormick, from illinois, and i�m just in for a few days on a short visit. we never make it to a party, but end up talking, getting to know each other, standing in her room in the dim light of desk lamps and 60-year old dorm fixtures. dave and her friend are gone. I have a load of stuff � a backpack, some clothes, things that were on my back, stuff i�d have with me for a sleep-over night at someone�s place � and I do sleep over. we talk and watch TV, and then fall asleep on her bed. I know this is ND because in the morning, when she has to be up for class, I have to stay behind because of parietals � ND�s visiting hours for people in opposite sex dorms. Shortly after colleen leaves, the phone rings, but I ignore it, thinking it is the security guard suspecting something and trying to catch me. it rings five times, stops when voice mail picks up, then it happens again. after the third round, I answer it, and it�s colleen, immediately sweet and apologetic that she had to rush out on me, that she�s sorry I have to stay there. I turn on the tv and watch boring morning shows and doze off, because the next thing I know looking at my watch, it�s 11 a.m. and i�m free to go. but I don�t, and soon colleen returns and we sit on the futon and I put my arm around her and she leans over to me and puts her head onmy chest as I slouch back into a horizontal position with my head propped up on the back of the futon. my left arm is raised above me, my hand resting on my head, and with her right hand, she reaches up and takes mine, holding it as we talk and watch nothing in particular on tv. so we decide I will head back to the place I was supposed to stay so I can shower and we�ll go out to dinner � we�d met only the night before and done nothing but talk and sit in her dorm room, so tonight�s dinner will be a first date. it has become clear to me that I am me � a sportswriter at a nj paper, and i�ll have to leave the following day to be home to cover a baseball game. rather than stay in a hotel, i�m staying in a dorm. colleen�s dorm turns out to be at the site of stepan center, on the northeast corner of campus, but it is as old as the bulk of ND dorms. the dorm i�m supposed to be staying in turns out to be the first from my days at school � grace, the 11-floor high-rise now turned into offices. I gather my things and we leave together, and when I walk out, the front door of the dorm looks like a scene in front of a hotel � cars, taxis, lined up, picking people up, dropping them off, and a cab driver with white hair and an oil-stained mesh-backed baseball cap just resting on the top of his head asks if i�m a reporter as I walk out with a rolled up map of some kind. I say I am, and he tells me he�s studying to become one too. i�m looking forward to a nice dinner with colleen, who has put on a sexy tight dress with deep slits at the sides, beneath her arms, so that you can see the side of her torso all the way down to her waist � so you can see that she doesn�t wear a bra and her breasts are pressed up against her body. but outside, where I talk with the cabbie, i�ve lost her, and I don�t see her again.