English 101

Today was the day Girl-Friend's research project was due. Just so you know, Girl-Friend wasn't Biker Teacher's girlfriend. Instead, she was friend who happened to be female. Now if that teenager description doesn't explain the situation, Girl-Friend and Biker Teacher had a platonic relationship. Which means, although Biker Teacher found Girl-Friend attractive, he stood no chance of getting any play because he looked like Thurlug the Orc.

Although Biker Teacher had long since graduated from college, and even completed an extra bout of accredited lobotomies, he was there at the school. He had a vested interest in Girl-Friend's research project. He had spent the week editing her paperwork. It was important for him to see if his expository writing skills were still butterknife sharp.

And he also saw a picture of Research Partner. Rawr!

Research Partner was a petite, lightly tanned, young Asian woman. She had a nice smile, and brown hair, which was a result of a stylish bleaching. But most importantly, she was single.

Biker Teacher skipped over to meet Girl-Friend in the college library. Normally men don't skip. However, since he possessed a college degree, and the other lesser male college students didn't, he felt it ok to be a little whimsical.

"How did it go?" he asked, with a slight pant.

"Not sure yet," was the reply. "But our professor is the type to lower your grade if the formatting is off."

Biker Teacher rubbed his scruffy, scarred chin. "Ah yes. I had professors like that before. They were called 'bitches.'"

Girl-Friend chuckled, then her attention was drawn elsewhere. "There's Research Partner. She's coming over."

An Asian goddess appeared before Biker Teacher. His mind fumbled with words. Do he prostate himself? Prostate? He wondered why he thought of the little rectal walnut instead of prostrate.

"What is he doing?" Research Partner inquired.

"Don't worry. He does that when he's lost in thought. Hey, Biker Teacher. Wake up."

Biker Teacher's mind still raced with a million things to say. He finally settled on being romantic, which, to those on the receiving end, could be fatal.

Biker Teacher assumed his best Rico Suave look and managed to utter a string of mangled thoughts. "So you must be Research Partner. Girl-Friend told me about you. But I can see now that she grossly over-stated your beauty."

"Excuse me?" Research Partner furrowed her brow.

"That means you're pretty. Maybe you should take some English classes. It might help you. And if you get stuck with the larger words, I can help out," Biker Teacher was eager to offer his services.

It was at this point that Girl-Friend tried to use her powers of invisibility for selfish reasons. She camouflaged herself as best she could next to the bulletin board covered with ads. She knew better than to associate herself with Biker Teacher once he gets on a roll.

Research Girl turned away from Biker Teacher and faced the translucent Girl-Friend. "I have our project board done and was about to..."

"I heard you were single and desperate. Want to get a coffee?" Biker Teacher interrupted.

Research Partner took a deep breath, grit her teeth, and rolled her eyes. Her lightly tanned complexion took on a reddish hue.

He continued unabated, "I heard you're a single parent. That must be tough. Mr. Esquire says I would make a good father."

"Oh really now," said Research Partner with obvious disbelief.

Girl-Friend was using her 14th level Hide in Shadows skill and was just a few yards from the exit now.

"Yes," Biker Teacher stated boldly, "in fact, Mr. Esquire said I should do my utmost to give your kid a baby brother or sister."

Girl-Friend slipped out the door unnoticed.

Research Partner clenched her fists tightly at her sides. She spoke through her teeth as she scowled. "Look, I don't know who you are..."

"Biker Teacher."

"Or where you came from..."

"The westside."

"Or what you're doing here..."

"Trying to get a date with you."

"But it will be a cold day in Hell when I go out on a date with you!" She stomped her foot, punched the bulletin board, and kicked open the door as she stormed out.

Biker Teacher skipped out of the library. He found Girl-Friend waiting just outside. She seemed confused by the look of victory on his face. He leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I've got a date for winter solstice."

Survivor: Hawaii

The Band Teacher paid me a visit today, and I survived first contact.

"Hey, I'm going to come up to your house now. I'm like 20 seconds away."

"OK, I was just about to pee, so wait for me."

When I got out of the bathroom, the Band Teacher was already here. She just finished working out at the gym down the street. We hadn't had a chance to sit down and chat since May, so it was mostly just catching up.

We went over the usual topics: How was our school doing. How was college. What are her plans after college. Etc, etc.



Now for you female readers, I'll let you in on a secret. The average male couldn't care less about how you did in college or your future plans. It's a ruse. A smokescreen. We know a woman's favorite topic is herself, so we offer the easy bait. The real reason we ask, or feign interest, is so that you don't see what we're really concentrating on.



The Band Teacher was wearing a black baby-tee kind of top while she worked out. I think it picked up a bunch of lint from her towel. There was enough lint to throw me into an OCD fit. I was just about to get up to grab some tape to remove the lint when she started laughing. Luckily I stopped before I did a weird impression of a grooming monkey.



However, it was then that I notice a strand of her hair had come to rest just above her left boob. I instinctively reached out to grab it... the hair... when I caught myself.

"I don't think I want to be grabbing your boob."

*thinks*

"No wait. I do want to be grabbing your boob."

So with the dexterity of the Gray Mouser, I removed the strand of hair without contacting a supple breast. Not sure if I should cheer or jeer on that one.

"There. Just like Pick-Up-Sticks."



Then we shot the shit a bit more. She looked at the dog, but didn't give him a boner. Then the topic went to needles.



This girl, who was always cocksure, fears needles. I told her she was lucky she wasn't me when she was growing up. Besides being an ugly toad, I had to get regular injections for every conceivable medical condition known to man.

She explained how bad it was when she had to get her cavities checked out... in her mouth. Such a statement by itself isn't too funny. However, she thought that I was thinking dirty thoughts, and quickly added in the "in my mouth," part after she noticed the double entendre. She then tried to explain it away by saying how the English language screwed up with the word "cavity."



Me, I was wondering why she was trying to explain the obvious. Of course cavities are found in the mouth. Where do you think you find them? Up your ass?

I also discovered an interesting scientific fact. I would have never learned this is the Band Teacher did not stand upwind from me.

I had ridden my motorcycle earlier in the day while wearing full leathers. I also got caught in the rain while riding. I came home and cleaned and oiled my leathers. I was sweaty. I smelled like carrion. (not really, but hyperbole for effect)



The Band Teacher was working out on cardio and lifting weights for two hours. She did not shower, nor changed her clothes before visiting me. Yet, she smelled good. It may be an oddity of science that would require a team of researchers with millions of dollars in grants to figure this out, but the Band Teacher's sweat smelled like April freshness. Strange.

Then it was time for her to leave. She had things to do, like shower, and I had to head out for a bicycle ride.

One thing I cannot figure out about women: why do they insist on playing with dead spiders?

V: The Eastern Unintelligentsia

I was driving home after a bike ride and out of the blue, I remembered V.



V might be considered one of the early unintelligentsia. I met her when I was in college in Hilo.

This girl was a major firecracker.
Not only was she really good looking, but she was also funny, and had
great self esteem. She did what she felt like doing and if people
didn't like it, too bad. I don't recall her ever saying anything
negative about another person other than those who tried to make fun of
her. Instead of getting you to laugh at people, she made you laugh with
her. This made her immensely likable, and we used to look forward to
her visits.

She loved acting. I guess it comes naturally when
one is an extrovert. However, she really did enjoy it. She used to try
and get us to go watch her in various plays, but since we were "above"
going to plays, I never did get to see her act. I kick myself now.

Now because she loved acting, she loved being on film. One day she came over and we did an impromptu photo shoot. My roommate put her in various wrestling holds while I snapped off a few shots. It's frikking hilarious when your 6 foot tall roommate has a 5 foot tall girl in a headlock or in a suplex.
And the girl played along and loved it. Unfortunately I don't have
those pictures anymore. They were stored on 3.5" floppy disks. Remember
those?

V was also generous with her things. She once let my roommate her car for a day. It was an older Nissan Sentra
(but it wasn't old back then), filled with the requisite items of the
typical female car. She had two pairs of shoes, several shirts, a
couple of shorts, and an odd number of socks. My memory is fuzzy, but I
think I remember something like panties or bikinis.


So my roomie left for the day. V came over in the evening, and my roomie returned. V went outside to get in her car...

"How did my four door become a two door?"

My roommate was the stereotypical clueless surfer dude. He just hopped in the first Sentra
that looked like V's car and drove off. The weird thing was that the
key actually worked! They returned the car to a bewildered parking lot
wanderer.

Like some other unintelligentsia, V would take breaks
from hair removal duties. She too would allow her legs to grow a fine
coat. Even worse, V would take it one step further. Not only would she
show her prickly legs to us, but she would insist, nay force, us to
touch them. Touch them we did. We were forced into running our hands
across her stubbled shins and calves. It was an experience on the order
of a car wreck. We knew it was bad and disgusting, but we could not
stop from getting more.


Now V wasn't just all humor and
acting. She could give a guy a major case of blue-balls if she wanted.
Like the time she came to visit wearing some loose fitting soccer
shorts. She sprawled out on the couch and discussed her underwear
habits. Mainly, how she rarely wore them. Those satineque shorts
revealed a lot, but not enough. I'm sure it was obvious where our eyes
were, but V didn't care. That's just how she was. She knew college guys
want to look, and she just saw it as a fact of life. Not a huge
production for her.

And don't get me started on AOL. AOL used to be the number one internet
craze at the time. I had an account, and V wanted to try out the chat.
Of course, with V, nothing was normal. Imagine being a college male
with a hot female seated right next to you. Now imagine the female is
online describing her fellatio techniques. Yeah, you get the picture.


But even V sometimes needed help. There was one night when it was raining cats and dogs, which is normal for Hilo,
when she called asking for a ride. My roommate was either too drunk or
stoned to comprehend the message, so I hopped in my truck to go pick
her up. When I found her at the 7-11, she was soaked to the bone. She
had an argument with her boyfriend, and he kicked her out of his house.
She had to walk several blocks through the downpour to the payphone to
call for a ride. This was the era before the widespread use of
cellphones. I don't think she let the breakup set her back though. She
was back on her feet in a few days. She always had a tough personality.

I do thank Hilo for being cold enough to prevent any thoughts of sleeping in the nude. On more than one occasion,
V burst into my room before noon to wake me up. What was a surprising
and funny situation could have easily become a source embarrassment. I wasn't used to locking my room door when the house doors were locked.

So V, thanks for being one hell of an entertaining human being. You made some otherwise boring college days a bit more fun.