What is irritating about love is that it is a crime that requires an accomplice. -- Baudelaire
~~~~~
He's talking to me. He has to be; there isn't anyone else in the classroom. I sigh and turn around.
"Um, I liked 'Song of Myself.' It's good to be exposed to writers like Whitman, because otherwise I don't read that much poetry. I'm more into fiction."
I'm disgusted with myself even before I see him gearing up for a retort. He shuffles excitedly in his seat, pushing the thick spectacles up the bridge of his acned probiscus, folding his hands together on his desk before launching his sermon.
"Well, I don't think it's proper to compare mediums. Poetry is about truth. Fiction is false. I mean, I read books too, you know? I just finished The Plague, and it was entertaining and all but it wasn't real. It wasn't true."
Right. Whatever you say, asswipe. Nevertheless, I find myself eliciting a coquettish giggle and tilt my head to the side.
"I take it you don't consider yourself an absurdist, then?"
I admonish myself silently. The mistake you make every night of your life--sucking up to a man. And man oh man what a man we have tonight. Unwashed dandruff-ridden rug on the head. Pit stains. Obnoxiously obvious boner. You can look forward to him humping your leg for the rest of the semester.
He takes the bait, launching into a rant about "the absurdity of philosophy," hands wave, eyes sparkling. I sit back, smiling, pretending to listen. Yes, you're full of yourself to think you deserve better, but you should still know better by now. You've seen this type in virtually every community college liberal arts class. The gangly, pedantic closet misogynist who won't let social awkwardness get in the way of trying to get laid. It's a kind of perseverance in the face of overwhelming odds that makes Gandhi look like a hack. One would think countless rejections and putdowns would prove discouraging, but here you are, a nice girl, proving that sometimes miracles do happen.
"Amazing," you murmur. He lights up a 100 watts. "Yes, it is, isn't it?!"
