“Well, Professor, I am having a lot of difficulty understanding this guy Nietzsche. Can you please explain his concept of “The Death of God,” and what he means by this idea of “the eternal return of the same?”
I just don’t get it. It all seems so unnecessarily difficult!
Please advise me what this means and if we are responsible for this stuff on our final exam.
“I could, of course, Michelle," I replied cautiously, "but I'm going to be giving a lecture on that very topic tomorrow; so why don’t you just be patient and wait til then? I’m quite sure that it all will be much clearer to you after you’ve listened to my lecture.”
Then Michelle crossed her legs, took out a pack of Virginia Slim cigarettes and lit up and blew smoke out at me and looked me straight in the eye, and invitingly just like Marlene Dietrich did to Prof. Rath in The Blue Angel. It was almost like a contest. Who would look away first?
Then she surprised me with a direct in-your-face personal question:
“Are you married?”
I pointed to my wedding ring and said “Yes, you see, I am.”
“So am I.”
Then she reached into her purse and pulled out an odd hand-rolled cigarette and offered it to me.
“What’s that?” I asked, eyeing it nervously
“A joint. Dope…marijuana,” she smiled, extending it to me as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.
I was shocked.
“Put that thing away, at once. That could get us both into a lot of trouble around here if anyone saw it.”
She put it back into her pocketbook, carefully,as if saying. “O.K. We’ll put that on the back burner for now.
Then she looked right into my eyes and I saw how hers had become like hypnotic orbs drawing my whole being into her, as like Suzanne in the famous Leonard Cohen song, she “got me on her wavelength and I dreamed of tea and oranges that came all the way from China,” looked deeply into those orbs, those eyes that were calling to me, inviting me to enter into her, to take a journey to far away places with her, those places with the strange sounding names that had always held a fascination for me. I could sense a growing excitement and didn’t know what to do with it.
I had been trapped in a loveless marriage for years and my senses had become so numbed that I had long ago ceased to be aware of the sexual vibrations circulating around me whenever attractive young women were around.
Sensing my fear and confusion, Michelle reached out to me and, while holding me entranced by the rays of light that I believed that I saw emanating from her eyes, she gently took my hand and placed it on her left breast holding it there firmly with her right hand, while our eyeballs continued exploring each other and we both felt a strong magnetic attraction swelling up through us coming from deep within our souls.
“Would you like to make love to me, honey?” she finally said softly, breaking through the sensual magical silence building between us that we had both been enjoying
“I can’t,” I said. “I’m married.”
I felt completely stunned, shocked. I’d never been propositioned by a lady before. This moment literally blew my mind. I felt walls crumbling.
“I’m married, too,” she said, smiling proudly showing me her diamond ring. “But that doesn’t matter to me. Does it to you?”
I really was buffaloed now, and felt at a loss as to what to do or to say any more. I felt torn with inner conflict. Of course I wanted to have sex with this exciting alluring young creature, on the one hand. Who wouldn’t?
But what would my wife say, if she found out? And of course she would. She always finds out about everything, somehow! She has her spies everywhere, I think!
And what would God say if She found out?
I decided that I’d better curtail this dangerous train of thought. The only wise thing I could conceive of to do now was to get this "Black Magic Woman," this all but irresistible Jezebel away from me as quickly as possible, before all my normally impregnable defenses suddenly collapsed all at once. Either she must go, or I must flee.
“I think you’d better leave.” I said, hoping that she wouldn’t make it hard for me, but at the same time secretly wishing that she would!
At this point Michelle got up, winked at me, which made my heart tremble and then leap right up into my throat.
“Well, think about it, Professor, and let me know. I’m really a good lay. I give great head, and I can give you a more satisfying sexual experience than you’ve ever had before.”
Then she went over to my desk, tore a sheet from the yellow legal-size pad she saw lying there, and wrote her phone number and home address on it, and handed it to me, nonchalantly.
“Call me soon!” she said, looking right through me.
I felt weak, and afraid that I might faint, or if not that, at least come down with a serious migraine headache.
By now she had gathered up her things and shouldered her drum and was marching out the door.
Her demeanor had changed now, and she was acting like an innocent undergrad again.
For a moment I actually began to doubt whether this narrow escape from SIN had ever taken place. It seemed like this whole shocking yet fascinating experience had been only a fantasy, a dream.
But then I saw Patti's phone number right there in front of me on my desk.
"What shall I do now," I wondered anxiously.
"Should I call her or not?"
I know myself pretty well, and I knew already at that moment that before many days--or perhaps a couple of weeks at most--passed, I would call her, and I would see her off campus.
I couldn't get her out of my mind, like a song you're tired of but can't stop hearing, no matter how hard you try.
God forgive me, but in truth I am not in control of my body as I should be--- at least according to St. Augustine and the other ancient Church Fathers.
|
|
No comments:
Post a Comment