So, I'm in line at Mike's Pastry Sunday afternoon, waiting for Sunshine and her bridal magazines, when I hear a voice call my name. I turn, and there is a student. I greet him happily, and step out of line to talk. He's there with his parents. Do I want to meet them?
Um... I'm in a low cut, spaghetti-strap lace trimmed tank top, and I've got the long flowing curls thing going on. I look pretty damn hot, but not fit for parents. But I can't insult the kid... So I thank God for the cordoroy jacket I brought along, and wrap it tight and go say hello to Mom and Dad.
They're very nice, but apparently, I'm about 20 years younger than they thought I'd be and could easily pass for a freshman.
I'm not sure what bothers me more: that the way my students describe me makes me seem mid forties, or that I look like a boobilicious 18 year old.
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3 comments:
I'm sure it helped that I showed up in a jean jacket rocking the baseball cap. :)
I'm gonna go with the boobs on this one, but they don't bother me one bit!
Sunshine - I know! We made quite the professorly pair!
Errol - its good to know that some things never change.
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