Shifting Paradigms

I never thought that education could make me so horny, but this staff development was boring as hell. The worst part about being horny at an education seminar is the women; they are horrible and unattractive. I was feeling so randy that, well, honestly I didn’t care what these women looked like. I could have lined them all up, bent them over their automatically inclining and reclining craftmatic beds and hammered into every single one of them. Even in their worst state, I would have had them all. Yep, even with their hair frosting cap on, I would have reveled in the idea of lifting up their official NFL sleeper shirts or pulling down their gray wal-mart sweat bottoms.

It’s no surprise that I’d stop listening to the keynote speaker as soon as I had sat down. I had to get out of there. I told hello-my-name-is-Shirley that I was off to get some more low-fat popcorn and left.

I can’t believe my principal spent $375 to send me to this one day seminar rip-off. Okay, sure, I get a day away from my bipolar-who-am-I, now-I-have-pubic-hair middle school students. But, this was in some ways just as bad. My principal kind of saw this little training as a favor. The training is on Thursday and Friday is a staff holiday. The combination of these days effectively gave this teacher saint a four-day weekend. Really, though, my principal knew it was my wife and I’s wedding anniversary. I got a better idea, though. Drop the staff training idea and just give me the $375.

Leaving the workshop and heading down the hallway, I walked past all the cheap teacher snacks. I walked passed the popcorn, the Sam’s club 200-count cookies, the powdered creamer, the Styrofoam cups and the dried-out carrot sticks. I walked passed the reception table where two retired teachers were handing out welcome packets with glitter pencils attached by pipe cleaners. I wondered if they saw my district-sized erection. Yeah, I got your education inspiration right here, ladies! Oh, god, I need to take care of this.

Out from the lobby I walked towards the taxis. Surely this town has strip clubs. Strip clubs-that won’t help. Strip clubs are as close as you can get to sex without getting sex. Goddamn it.

An angel.

“Are you here for the conference?” I was asked.

“I’m sorry?” I replied.

“Are you here for the conference?” she repeated.

Okay, she wasn’t pretty. She was wearing a plain red sweatshirt with jeans and white Reebok high-tops. She was totally on the clock. But, I did mention earlier that I was all-conference horny.

“Am I here for the conference? Are you a…”

“Are you a Cop?” she interrupted.

“No, I’m not a Cop--I’m a teacher.”

“A teacher-no shit. How did you know I was working?”

“When you asked if I was here for the conference.”

“It’s innocent enough,” she offered.

“That’s funny.” I looked around and then added, “Look, it’s my wife’s anniversary and I’m here at this shitty teacher training. And honestly I just can’t stand listening to-”

“It’s $150--$50 if you just want a blow job.”

At this point, for $375 I wondered if I could just drag her back into the training conference room, clear me off one of those conference tables, call all those attentive teachers to gather around, hand out evaluative rubrics and then fuck the shit out this hooker while slapping “A+” post-it notes on her industrial ass.

“Yeah, $150 that’s fine and this training I’m at comes with a free room in this hotel.”

I looked around and then counted out the money while thinking how this would be a great word problem worksheet for my students:


You are lonely, depressed and horny. You have $800 in cash. A regular prostitute is $150. The high-class prostitute is $350. Each prostitute provides blow jobs at the same rate of $50. An education training seminar costs $375. How would you spend the weekend? How many different combinations are there? Show your work. If you complete your work and there is still time left, diagram your answer in the box provided below:







After the girl got her trick bag, we headed into the hotel. I made sure we walked past the two retired teachers still talking about their time share in Orlando. I winked at them as I snagged a welcome package for my new lady friend. I’m sure they didn’t notice.

When we got back to my room she announced, “Whoa, it’s freezing in here.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m not paying for the electricity bill so I always crank the A/C on full blast.”

“Well, while I use the bathroom, you can turn that off for a bit.”

I so needed this. It had been a while—about a year. This was going to be the quickest $150 she has ever earned.

“Can I keep the lights on?” I asked.

“The water’s on. I can’t hear you. Hold on.”

White Sheets.

She turned off the water, fumbled around and then came out.

“What did you say?”

“Can I keep the lights on?”

“It’s your time. You can do whatever you want.”

She pulled off her sweatshirt and continued to undress. I leapt out of my clothes like I was bounding out of a birthday cake.

“Hold on.” She turned around and bent over into her kit bag.

She had two lines of scares on her back. She turned around with a colored condom, rubbing alcohol and some gauze. She wet the gauze, wiped her self, looked up, dropped to her knees and with the condom in her mouth beckoned me over. She went on to wipe me down and fondled me a bit. I guess I was a little anxious. She kept rubbing me but nothing was happening.

“It’s been a while.”

“Really…” she replied.

“Yeah, about a year.”

“Oh.”

Teach your kids well. Students are the future. Teachers care. Kids are special. Teachers have a heart. If you can read this, thank a teacher. Education counts. You are entering a learning zone. Learning is the key to tomorrow. Teachers light your future.

While on the bed, I was now just paying her to lay there.

“We’re separated.”

“Ah.”

“Well, actually she’s gone.”

“Oh.”

“We had already been separated when she died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. She died while…”

She didn’t respond.

I continued, “Yeah, we were both on our sides. She was facing away from me. I guess at some point while we were doing it she had pulled a pillow over her hands, slit her wrists and bled to death. I didn’t know.”

She didn’t stay too long after that. Eventually she just rose, packed her trick bag and left.