Right Wing Nation

Miss C*wp*r and Miss H*hrl*nb*rg*r

Again, the first day of the first week of the semester. Five minutes or so after class began, Miss C*wp*r waltzed in, as if interrupting the class were perfectly normal, saw that the lights were off (I was doing a Powerpoint presentation), snorted, and stood right in front of the room, apparently having trouble selecting a seat.

Finally, she sat down. In the front row. This would turn out to be important, though I didn’t know it at the time.

I went on with the presentation, then turned off the projector and turned on the lights. Miss C*wp*r smiled and wiggled down and forward, and spread her legs.

You guessed it. She was doing a Sharon Stone. I ignored her.

Every day, she came in, sat down in the front row, and did the same thing. And every day, I ignored her.

Now, I could have filed sexual harassment charges against her if I wanted, but I couldn’t bring myself to use a mechanism that I felt, frankly, was corrupt and pointless. So instead, I ignored her. I did not mention the fact that she had on no panties or that she was deliberately exposing herself.

I did, however, enlist the help of a couple of students who had mentioned that they had noticed — just in case she tried to get me in trouble with the administration.

She did finally approach me one day after class, and the two students had agreed if that ever happened, to remain in the room until she was gone. Even with them there, she came right out and propositioned me. I told her to take a hike, and not to try it again or she’d find herself in the Dean of Students office.

Miss *hrl*nb*rg*r had very little between the ears, and no social skills at all. It was sad. She couldn’t work with her cohort, she didn’t understand most of what was going on, but she tried.

Now, I’ll take a not so smart student who busts his ass over a smart student who can’t be bothered any day. Miss *hrl*nb*rg*r was in my office every week for office hours, but just didn’t get it. She was math-challenged, and that just doesn’t work very well with decision sciences.

She also just didn’t know how to talk to people. Her cohort liked her, but she’d sit there like a lump when they were all supposed to pitch in, because she just didn’t know what to do. Everything worked out, because they felt sorry for her and gave her the brain-dead stuff.

Well, until the final presentation.

The semester-long project ended in a presentation given by the cohort to the class. Business dress casual. The order in which they presented was randomly assigned, and Miss *hrl*nb*rg*r and her cohort (fortunately for her) drew first.

On my way to the classroom, I heard quite a ruckus down the hall, and when I turned the corner, several undergrad guys were excited about something. One had been my student, so I asked him what was going on.

“Look at that!” he said, pointing.

There was Miss *hrl*nb*rg*r, in a very short, black see-through cocktail dress. I mean see-through, as in you could see her bra and panties.

I gently told her to go home and change, and I’d bump her cohort to last place.