One week later we had a sit down. I thought the IHOP on I-10 would be a good place. They didn't. They sent a limo to take me to Ft. Stockton, a Learje... to take me to Houston International, and a Bell Jet Ranger to ferry me from IAH to Exxon tower. I was in the board room about 20 minutes after arriving in Houston. I was seated on one side of a long table. I was given a glass of water and the diminutive red head with the dynamite figure asked me if I wanted anything else."Yes, but I don't think. "Sorry. I was, uh, thinking about my game plan," you lie, just barely maintaining eye contact with her now.She raises an eyebrow and then nods slowly. "Right. Well, there's something I need to tell you. I wanna fight tonight."You can't help but laugh a little, "You? Do a boxing match? You have no idea what to do! This is the men's league anyways, and you aren't even registered at all." You were used to her making unreasonable demands, but usually they were at least possible.She huffed, crossing. And then you do. Someone's misplaced sense of moral outrage and perverted sense of justice finds the tiny pocket of planet Earth you happen to be occupying at the moment and is made manifest.It was another terrorist bombing. I had no way of knowing that at the time, but it's what the rescue crew confirmed when they found us about twenty-four hours later.I was in Mumbai, India, a twenty-four year old doctoral candidate in history doing some research for my dissertation on the British Raj that. ‘What’s your name, anyway?’ ‘Im Magan,’ she said, quickly, trying to avoid the other question, ‘What class do you have next?’ The image of Sandra’s hairless pussy slit was still fresh in her mind. ‘You answer my question first, then I’ll answer yours.’ Sandra winked at Megan, and then checked to see where the introduction would take them next. The next class of the morning was actually a normal one, History 204, which would be followed by Tongue Use 103, just before lunch brake. ‘I liked.