It has never beeb harder to be a morally upright university professor as it is right now. The occupational hazard of a campus girl coming up to you and offering herself in exchange for a good grade is real.
Sometimes we expect too much from professors, who are mere mortals. Not all of us are Josephs who will flee from temptation.
That kind of self control is as easy to find as a pair of clean socks in a boy’s campus room on a Thursday. So naturally, lecturers tend to look the other way.
To try and ignore the creamy, yellow thighs of that lassie who followed him into the office after class to seek further ‘clarification’ about this or that concept.
When things in their pants start getting disorganised, they act as if nothing has happened before crossing their legs to save themselves from embarrassment.
But what if the girl is not a student? In that case there is no professional code of conduct to adhere to, right?
So a couple of weeks ago I ran into a professor of mine in the most unlikely of places. Hevis not that old, he is probably in his thirties.
He is one of those genuises who went abroad for studies, took summer classes and cleared too early, then raced up the academic ladder, quickly becoming an ‘associate professor’. We called him ‘Prof’.
It turns out that the pursuit for good ‘tail’ led us to the same household, Prof and I that is.
There is this girl I have been chasing for a while, and to gather more brownie points, I accepted her invitation to Friday family dinner at her cousin’s place.
Talk followed the drinks, and suddenly, tongues loosened to tell tales of the previous weekend. Then my bird’s cousin blurted out a name. And then to emphasise who she was talking about, she mentioned his other two names.
I giggled, not realising that everyone was quiet, waiting to listen to how the night ended for both of them.
“I am sorry, forgive me, it is only that he is my lectures in campus and so….” Awkward laughs followed. It turnd out that Prof was also to attend this dinner.
But immediately aftet my little confession, she grabbed her phone and eased out of the room. Nobodu noticed her leave, except me.
Later as the dinner came to an end, we stepped out of the gate, only to see my girl’s cousin in the passenger seat of a familiar Mercedes Benz.
The same one that is usually parked in the parking spot reserved for a certain university department. I really do not understand why he had to hide. She is not his student,and they are in the same age group.
There is nothing illicit about their union, and really, I do not care. But hey, to each, his own, donge?