Saturday, May 11, 2013

Flirtatious Frank

Frank, Frank, Frank.

I'm Frank.
I so roofied
this freaking apple.
You are adorable.  You flatter me. You do.  You never fail to ask about my weekend.  You smile at me in such a cute way.  You laugh at all my jokes.  That time, when I sang an Emily Dickinson poem to the tune of a church hymn,  you complimented my voice.  You sounded so sincere.  You sounded sweet.   When we analyzed "Latin Night at the Pawn Shop," you guessed, correctly, that I play one of those instruments.  Maybe you knew, or you had heard from someone, that I sing, and play that instrument in local gigs.  You told me you, too, were a musician.  That may or may not be true, Frank.

You asked me if I saw you, playing frisbee on the quad. Your friends kind of laughed, when you asked that.  I did, but I denied it.  I am not sure why.  It just seemed important that I should not have seen you.  In retrospect, that was a misstep.  Who gives a shit, if I saw you or not?

Frank, you are a horrible writer.  Your critical thinking is for shit.  In the "real world," if I were not married, you would have zero chance with me. Zero, Frank.  And I'd have zero chance with you, as I am post 40, not rich, and not absolutely gorgeous (although I am not all that bad, either).

You are a D student, Frank.  You will receive a D in the class you have with me.  I realize this will not transfer to the four year State U you want to attend.

I don't give a shit.

10 comments:

  1. So it's established that Frank is a very poor writer. Remaining question: is Frank a charming screwup/stoner/idiot, or a manipulative narcissist and/or sociopath? Let's hope for the former, though that frisbee exchange sounds a bit creepy. At least let's hope he decides to cut his losses and retake the class with someone else. But if the end of the class doesn't end the weird interactions, _The Gift of Fear_ by Gavin de Becker can be a useful resource for figuring out how to handle such situations.

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    1. I think he is just a big silly, but I tend to always keep my danger radar on, anyway, a remnant of having lived in a horrible neighborhood for five years (ah, the grad school days.....).

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  2. Good story. Until you wrote about giving him a D, I assumed you were talking about another professor. I don't know why I jumped to that conclusion, other than I think less of some colleagues than I do students.

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    1. Cal is so wonderful doing the graphics. I can't figure out how to doctor them. But I think he may also have thought Frank was a colleague.....

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    2. Bella, I hope the second one is better...

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    3. Thanks, Cal! That does look a whole like more like Frank....a pretty good likeness, actually!

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  3. But maybe Frank likes 40, or maybe he likes mean, or even likes having zero chance; maybe the prospect of a non-transferable D will give him the perfect reason to come to your office and say "I'll do anything for a C!" Just keep the door open, as I do.

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    1. Augh! Maybe it will!

      I always keep the door open, just in case....

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  4. Bella wrote: "You asked me if I saw you, playing frisbee on the quad. . . . I did, but I denied it. I am not sure why. It just seemed important that I should not have seen you. In retrospect, that was a misstep. Who gives a shit, if I saw you or not?"

    I recognize this misstep because I've done it more than once. It's very hard to choose an emotion to convey in the moment.

    With creeps like Frank, once I'm aware of their attention, I go on red alert, and then my hyperawareness of their presence comes across as interest I'm trying to deny. It's never happened with a student, but in grad school it fed the predator male faculty. I didn't have the skills or confidence (or job security) to truly ignore them, much less confront them. They were very clever about not crossing the line into something I could report about them.

    Even after getting tenure, this "red alert" reaction caught me by surprise when a newly divorced dean started flirting with me (and with every other woman in sight, I later learned to my relief). Now he seems to think *I* had a crush on *him* and is careful to keep mentioning his great relationship with an old flame. Meanwhile, I still can't turn off my creep alarm around him.

    Does anyone else recognize this misstep or, better yet, have a solution?

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    1. Yeah, JUST this, PG. This little dude, this little youngster, is acting like he might have something over on me. Or like he hopes he does. And in that moment, I feel like I showed weakness for exactly the reasons you said. Dangit.

      I can only take comfort in the fact that he DOES NOT have anything over on me.

      Also, I think this is something unique to being a female prof. Somehow, the man-woman historical dynamic ("man"....AS IF!!!) gives a male of the species, particularly one completely incapable of critical thought, the incorrect notion that perhaps he might have the upper hand.

      I prefer what Peter K suggested below... that this kid just likes 40, and MEAN (I am MEANMEANMEAN) and maybe even ZERO chance. But somehow, I feel a little off my game, just the same.

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