Community Coeds
Posted by Dewan Gibson | Filed under Humor, Short Stories
I wrote this a year ago as I was reflecting on my summer in community college. I was actually a bored and lonely graduate student at the time, so I decided to attempt to learn conversational French in 10 weeks at the local junior college. But of course I ended up checking out some associate degree ass. BTW this story is not really a story and nothing really happens, but it is somewhat funny. How’s that for getting you interested in reading? Blah-blah-blah. Well, here you are:
Community college is the best bargain around, especially during the summer semester. For less than fifty bucks per course you have the opportunity to gawk at lotion-glazed coeds and learn from an instructor who has a life outside of academia. Well, let me go into a bit more detail about the coeds. They are tanned, sweaty and you can actually see their ass cheeks smile—do you know that semi-circle crease located where a woman’s thigh morphs into her ass? This work of God is revealed at least once every class period, usually by a shameless student wearing single striped short-shorts popularized years ago by Chrissy on Three’s Company…fucking unbelievable.
But to be honest I am not necessarily taking classes for the girls or the lectures. I’m here taking French II because I don’t have shit else to do. I’m broke and unemployed.
I have a college education and I’m a few months away from an advanced degree, yet I cannot find work. I send resumes daily and even follow-up with a phone call in my white voice, but still no luck. Things have gotten so bad that I even did three hours of hard labor just to have money for a full meal and a DVD rental. Yep, I had my black ass in the hot sun helping the friend of a former professor load her moving truck…all for forty damn dollars.
Thankfully, a small monthly stipend from my work earlier in the year as a teaching assistant covers rent and utilities. But as far as luxuries like supersized McDonald’s value meals or two-ply tissue, I go without. Never mind extravagances of the rich such as a full tank of gas or a monthly haircut. Good to know afros are coming back in style.
Back to French class. This morning I have my first oral presentation with my study partner Clarissa. I “happened” to sit by her the first day of class and in the weeks since we’ve flirted through elementary French phrases and also talked of skipping class to hang out at the beach. I find her attractive, sexy even, though I cannot say she’s beautiful. But neither am I. We are just fives or sixes in the eyes of most. Both of us scrawny and flat, both of us capable of attracting others—just not the beautiful people we desire, both of us fairly smart—but not particularly gifted in anything, both of us waiting for the other to make a move.
I suppose I’d jump Clarissa’s bones if I did not have a girlfriend whom I believe to be The Girlfriend. I want to remain faithful, even though she and her unadulterated pussy went back home to Bahrain for summer vacation. So my fantasies about Clarissa, including the reoccurring mental porn where she rides me as only the thin girls can, cums first and then finishes me with her smallish mouth—will remain dreams unrealized.
The oral exam starts off well. We proceed through our rehearsed dialogue as the instructor, an elderly Lebanese woman, looks on in approval. Then Clarissa throws me off. She pulls some advanced level French sentence out her ass, leaving me unable to respond coherently. I say only “merci.” Then I say again, “merci.” After thanking her twice I realize she’s not giving me a compliment, but is asking a question. I panic under pressure and say the first sentence that comes to mind, “Clarissa est très chaude,” which in English translates to “Clarissa is very hot.” Actually, it’s not a direct translation from English to French and would probably mean Clarissa is literally hot, as if she is wearing a down jacket in the French Riviera. Besides, I bet the romantic Frenchmen tell women “your beauty is like of that of a sparkling puddle outside the Louvre museum” or some corny shit like that, anything to get that hairy European muff, anything besides the overused “you’re hot” line.
Clarissa loses her calm. She attempts to say something, but the students’ laughter overwhelms her voice. Defeated and afraid of what else I might say, I catch the instructor’s eye to let her know “no more” or for that matter “non plus.” Clarissa and I go to our desks. I say, “That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Red with laughter she says “You spoke well.”
Dewan W. Gibson: Author of The Imperfect Enjoyment
3 Responses to “Community Coeds”
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Rajkesha Sims Says:
December 10th, 2009 at 9:01 pmHow I miss the days of your raunchy Myspace blogs!
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Rhys B. Balling Says:
December 11th, 2009 at 12:15 pmI like the part about being average looking cus that’s what most of us are. People try to pretend like their super hot or butt ugly when u find that most people are average in looks and everything else.
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Dewan Gibson Says:
December 12th, 2009 at 5:27 pmThank you, thank you. You’re far too kind.
