Like most college students, I go to the dining hall to have lunch with my friends on a daily basis. Except we’re weird. Weirder than that kid who walks around humming to himself all day and no one even knows his name. We’re a social weird though. We talk about topics most people don’t—or won’t—and we tend to bring our surrounding peers into the conversation.
So Wednesday, like any other day, we grabbed lunch from the dining hall and the five of us went to the café to eat—because who really wants to sit in the crowded dining hall and listen to freshmen discussing how drunk they got last night. (Seriously, dude? It’s a Tuesday.)
We sat down and began our normal conversation, which always leads to talking about feminist ideals and how society sucks or who wants to sleep with whom. So essentially, we start talking about how great boobs are—because they are awesome—and we had a pansexual and lady homo (lesbian) present for the discussion—and a guy sitting a few feet away chuckles and shakes his head a bit. My friend noticed and joked with him, and he said something along the lines of, “Oh, don’t let me stop you. Please continue this conversation.” So we did. We generally don’t let the company that surrounds us restrict our conversation, although this time, we probably should’ve considered it.
The boob conversation delves deeper into the topic of nipple-to-boob ratio and what the preference seems to be or is for those present that are sexually attracted to women, and my friend invites the guy to join the conversation. He does. “I feel like there’s no bad nipple-to-boob ratio,” he says.
A smart answer.
Then the topic of “older guys” gets brought up, and the discussion leads to who thinks middle-aged men can be sexier than college guys and who prefers “that touch of gray” in a guy’s hair. Ya know, just casual public lunch conversation.
The random guy eventually asked all of us what we majored in, and we told him. Politely, my friend asks what his major is.
“Uh, I actually teach here.”
If you can picture 5 mortified, red-faced, jaw-dropped 20-something college girls, now is the time to do that.
Turns out he’s an almost 40-year-old psychology professor, and I’ll probably be in his class next year. I wonder if nipple-to-boob ratio will be on the syllabus.
My life is a series of awkward events.
-HRG
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