Welcome Freshmen

Hey, that’s a subtle reference to the fact that I’m an old man now. At least I’m not harping about Stoop Kid being afraid to leave his stoop…damn, I must stop dating myself with these references. Oh look, a box of pogs!

So, I returned to scene of the crime, otherwise known as Student Orientation, Advising & Registration, commonly known as SOAR. Last year, I taught the lesson for Salsa Club, met Pippa, and well, yeah. This year, I was asked to return for a one-night engagement. Among the advice I received was “if anyone says anything to you, run.” Nice words, but there were other concerns that occupied my mind, such as the overheated room. Rooms need ventilation; that is not opinion, but fact. However, the dutiful soldier I am, I sleeved up, booted up, and greeted my adoring legion of Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters. Yep, that sounds about right.

I began my lesson sometime later than I planned, but salsa people are notoriously late. There are certain aspects of the culture that I respect and embrace, like the occasional (often) tardiness. However, there are other aspects I’m not a fan of, such as greed and stupidity, especially the variety that is derived from hero worship. The situation that irked me was that I was brought in to teach. Why was I brought in to teach? Simple, I’m in-house instant entertainment, and my style caters to any audience. Also, my degree of intelligence leaves me amenable to change on a minute’s notice. However, some people fall into hero worship while wearing rose-tinted glasses; they see what isn’t there. Case in point: Diego. Now, I usually don’t hold people in high regard because I’m sure they suffer from questionable intellect, among other things. Diego is a particularly special case for all the wrong reasons. Our coach came by to lend support, and that led my teammate to publicly ask me to resign from teaching for the coach. Talent-wise, I understand the importance of having a professional teach; it adds credibility. However, when it comes to tact, therein lies my contempt. Publicly, you don’t embarrass someone, especially the person who’s in charge. Strategically, his hero worship failed because 1) he pissed me off, and 2) he alienated all of the guys in there. It was a room full of freshmen, majority being girls. If you teach a feminine style, the guys are going to consider dancing gay and leave. Sure enough, that’s what happened. Another colleague told me to switch the agenda to partner work because, well, we were running short on guys. Hell, girls left too because it was out of their comfort zone. I cannot guarantee I would have kept the maximum attendance, but I can say that both sexes would have been less freaked out.

Aside from that, another curious thing happened: it hit me that I’m now a teacher. I introduced myself firstly as faculty, not Salsa Club director. Second, when I was talking to the girls and looking their way, I thought “these could all be my students one day.” Immediately, the libido went to the abyss, never to return that night. A girl approached me about university life, and we had a heart-to-heart for a good half hour. Nothing kinky about it all, just me giving her advice on what roads to consider when she enrolls. Scary thought: A.T. Guy may have matured along the way. In contrast to a couple of colleagues there who were older than me, yet not faculty, it was creepy for me being in that room. Ironic as hell to say the least. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Fit For Rivals “Crash”


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