Dear Agony Aunt,
I can't ask my mom about this. I am seventeen and in my first sculpture class. I have a big problem. We have to make a clay copy of a man. The real man is sitting on a chair on a platform that the teacher turns. This helps us to get a different view. Then we can make the sculpture more like the man. He is a few years older than I am. He is wearing a red bathing suit and his legs stick out wide open. We have to make our fingers mould the clay in his middle place. He watches us do that.
When the man faces me, he starts winking. He moves his eyebrows and licks his lips. He pets himself. He stares right at me. Everyone watches. Well, do I blush! He is so handsome and bold. When he faces the other students, he stops.
Aunt Agony, am I supposed to do these same things when he looks at me, right in class? It is hard to learn about clay.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comments:
Gentle Reader,
You are in rather a pickle. While Aunt Agony is well aware that there are those who would absolutely relish having a well-endowed man make public promises of heaven, we are not of this ridiculous bent. We in fact find this fellow an impudent rake with less than celestial intent.
Here is what you should do, and we urge you most vehemently to undertake these measures with all the fortitude you have remaining. Firstly, you must take every opportunity to look him in the eye. Steady on now. You must be strong. We are well aware that this might be a repugnant chore. However, if you are not forceful this scamp will continue to enjoy his elevated sense of self at your expense. He is preying on your faltering confidence. He is bullying you. You must send him to Purgatory.
Secondly, should this rascal dare to advance his flirtation on you after this, immediately stop what you are doing, and go up and talk to him. Talk about the weather, or how your back needs a stretch, or the light in the room. Relish the thundering cumeuppance that will occur the moment you define the colour of his briefs. This will take him to the rewards of Hades that he so richly deserves.
Auntee's hope is that these simple measures will put paid to this egregious situation. But, we ask ourselves, why does not the professor take this mischief-maker aside and tweak his nose? Surely your teacher has seen more than one model interact with more than one art class. Surely your teacher must know what normal healthy social exchange is, and conversely, what perverted predation looks like. Surely your teacher does not enjoy perverted interaction? Moreover, why do not all of the other students in your class march right up to either of these beggars and protest?
Cherie, all this will be mere water under the bridge this time next month when your painful project is completed. Fifty years from now, you may not even recall the episode. Fifty years from now you may even make a work of art about it. Wouldn't that be delicious?
Post a Comment