Monthly Archives: May 2011

Global Warming Wednesdays — part three

It was just one of those days in the middle of a heat wave…

So hot, can’t sleep, and wake up an hour early. Look out the window, and it’s already sunny, and HOT. Might as well throw on a few clothes and head down to the dining hall for breakfast.

But it seems really quiet today. There’s no hum of air conditioners everywhere. That’s right, it’s Wednesday. Global Warming Wednesday. Might as well skip the clothes for now, and see what everyone else is doing in the dining hall.

There weren’t that many people there this early, but they were pretty much all in the buff. Boys and girls. Karen was standing there, neatly shaven, to make sure that things go well.

I said pretty much because one of the girls arrived in a baby doll, rubbing her eyes. Karen was on to her, counting the number of people in the hall. That would be a $35 donation to the Global Warming Wednesday organization. But heck, the girl just forgot. She whipped off the baby doll, Karen forgave her, and got a bit hug. It’s all for the cause.

There were a few guys, too, who seemed pretty much uneasy. They aren’t as accustomed to wandering around in public, bouncing up and down. A few of them were Brazilian, the players; but most of them weren’t, the bushmen.

First class was sociology, and the buzz at breakfast wasn’t too positive. Professor Merck. Well into her 50s, more than a little overweight. This could be a long hour – and some were hoping for relief. “People like her should keep their clothes on.” “She’s been missing some classes with that asthma…maybe in the heat wave she’ll bail.” “Maybe she will opt to keep them on and donate $100.”

We can only hope.

At 9:00 am, the class assembles. Not too full, for Professor Merck, and a few shy people not really willing to bare the heat. (That’s not a spelling mistake.)

At 9:05, there’s still no prof at the front. The noise level in the room is pretty loud, even though there are least a few people sitting quietly in their seats, just a bit uncomfortable in their skin.

Suddenly, in bounces a pretty impressive looking young woman, wearing glasses and carrying a binder. Put her in her middle 20s. Definitely not thirty yet. Oh yes, and like everyone else, naked and also clean shaven.

She walked behind the podium, and clearing her throat, she said: “The Administration asked me to announce that Professor Merck has just retired for health reasons. My name is Professor Johnson, and I’ve just graduated with my Ph.D. I was looking for the right position at colleges in this part of the country, and after some due diligence including the help of some social media, I decided to come here.”

“I may not run the class exactly the same way that Professor Merck did. You might expect me to be an easy touch because I’m not that much older than you, but I plan to run a tight ship. This is my first teaching job, and in this class, you will learn that I am in charge. “

There was a murmuring in the class. Professor Merck was not loved, and most were quite happy to put themselves in the new girl’s hands. Especially the boys.

The good professor was soonwell hidden behind the podium, and working through her lecture notes. The boys were small again. The new professor was pretty determined to stay in control. She had heard about orgies in the class at this campus, and was not too thrilled when she heard that for her first lecture she had a choice between lecturing in the nude or donating $100 of her first paycheque that she hasn’t even received yet.

By 40 minutes into the class, the class was not too much out of the ordinary. The lecture was not too exciting, about half of the class were daydreaming or failing asleep, and some had even lost sight of what they weren’t wearing. It looked like Professor Johnson was meeting her goal, in control.

But she wanted some class participation. “Who could draw that Venn diagram on the front board,” she asked. People lurched back awake, and a few hands went in the air. She chose one of the girls, who timidly walked forward and tried to keep her legs together as she sketched a diagram.

Meanwhile, to see the board, the Professor came forward to the first row of the lecture hall. What a fine figure she cut. Reminding themselves just how well she was built, thinking of how much to look forward to in their 9am class, many of the boys came back to life.

“Can someone else revise the diagram to show the impact of generational change?” she asked. Suddenly, she glanced in the lap of one of the clean-shaven fellows in the front row, with an unusually long dong. She felt she had to stay in control, so she averted her glance and looked out to the back of the hall. But the only hand in the air was the tall boy himself.

“Okay,” she said distractedly, “show us …..please go to the board.” She started losing it, trembling, and suddenly realizing she was standing naked in front of 80 students, at least one of whom was quite horny at the thought of the new Professor.

She struglled to get back in control.

The drawing was amended, but she barely looked at it. “Thank you,” said the Professor, turning back towards the podium for refuge. She and the boy crossed paths on the way. “We will be done for today in a moment.”

“Excuse me, Professor”, said the boy. The Professor responded: “I’ll take questions at the end,” by now halfway between the podium and the seats.

“It isn’t a question.” “It’s important to act on Campus Code violations when they occur. And you are clearly showing signs of arousal that violate the CCC.” “As an inspector, I would be neglecting my responsibilities if I didn’t respond.” He smiled, and started walking towards her, no pants to loosen.

“No, I was in the Administration office first thing this morning and scored an exemption pass for today.” “You, sir, are out of luck.” Trying to regain composure, “And this is not what I expect from one of my students.”

“ Welcome to our college”, said the boy, looking more serious and shaking his heads. “For under the Code, you are to have the exemption pass with you at all times. But it’s just you, out here in front.” Major hubub in the class this time.

“Please lean on the podium.”

[to be continued]