I surmise a bit of background might be warranted.
How did I get myself into the suicide hotline and why? If you're thinking it was some altruistic desire to help my fellow man, then you're way off the mark. Sorry.
As a student at UCI, I and my roommate lived in the then, largely ephemeral (Originally hastily erected to house the baby-boomer overflow and scheduled to be razed after ten years.) Tolkien-themed dorm of Middle Earth. (I mean who knew?). Hobbiton my first year, Mirkwood my second. Middle Earth was comprised of a total of 450 students in nine separate buildings, so ours was a small community by university dorm standards which meant, among other things, we were afforded quality food compared to the mass-man dorms across campus. The dorms themselves were coed. We had one male and one female suite on each of the two floors. Contrary to the various parents' opinions, the arrangement worked really well. It was the late 70's in California after all. That's where I first met Tammy and her friend Ellie both of whom were psychology majors.
UCI, as a college, was noted for its primarily scientific curriculum. It was well known - at least in a wink wink sort of way - that if a student couldn't handle the sciences there were fallback options culminating with psychology. (Please spare me the barrage of evil hate mail. I'm not forming judgments here - jes letting ya' know how it was in those days.) For me, the personal rationalization that I wasn't hanging out with her for her brain made it simpler. (Ditto on that evil hate mail thingy.)
I got to know Tammy a bit more in the following quarter or so, due in part by our weekly *Mash* viewings in my room every Thursday evening.(Hey! There were a lot of people who joined in. And BTW, stop reading now sweetie.) Turned out, Tammy wasn't a "psych" airhead after all. She had actually begun as a psychology major and was pretty darn intelligent. So much, as always, for first impressions. More importantly perhaps was the fact that she had a certain insight into people. A quality, dare I say, skill, that she and my eventual wife shared. Perhaps that was one of the reasons I found Tammy so attractive. But I'm not going to go there. I'll just provide you with a brief example. First, rich can describe the inner working functions of a scanning-tunneling microscope or deliver a fairly impressive extemporaneous fifteen minute oratory on, say, elephants. But my when my wife and I attend the very same social engagement, I can maybe come away from that experience (maybe!) knowing the color of the carpet while my wife, not generally thought of on first meeting to be a "rocket scientist", can recite every detail of a person's personality, past personal history, goals and aspirations, etc., etc.. that plain boggles my mind. A different kind of intelligence - not superior or inferior - that's all.
Tammy and I began to develop a mutual respect. She began to drop by fairly often. I helped her coordinate and report her "psychological behavioral experiments". She even dropped by my occasional fights (purely for research of course).
It was in this period that she first broached the subject of her volunteer work down at the ol' suicide hotline. I was aware of the fact that she worked there. When she asked me if I'd like to help out I was at once intrigued and repulsed. The idea of potentially communicating with what I regarded, at the time, as a "bunch of losers" wasn't enticing. The idea of spending time after hours in a darkened Administration building with Tammy was a bit more. Eventually, I agreed to attend an "orientation" meeting together with some professional counselors and other volunteers.
I told Tammy, "No promises." She was jubilant. I was more apprehensive.
To be continued.
5:27:20 PM 
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Welcome To The Club
