Laura and I went to the chess club meeting this evening, only to find out it had been canceled. We hung out in the student union, in front of the closed conference room where the club was usually hosted, trying to figure out what to do next. I’d called Tim Markle, left him a message, and gave him my cell phone number, but still haven’t heard anything back. While we were hanging out a kid carrying a skateboard came by and said, “Are you looking for the chess club meeting?”
“Yes! Do you know why it was canceled?”
“Father Tom is sick. He said he’d be back next week.”
“He’s the faculty advisor for the club.”
“I’d like to leave him a note,” I asked. “Can you tell me where his office is?”
“Yes, it’s in Calhoun Hall.”
We headed over the building but it was locked, so we decided to go back to our AirBNB and come back tomorrow morning.