Why I Don't Date my Professors.

The fifteen minutes I spend in the training room everyday is easily the best fifteen minutes ever.

I can't tell if it's because I'm having pulsating electric waves being sent through my right leg, or if it's because I get to hear athletes debate what is better for you: Nutri-Grain bars, or Honey Nut Cheerios.

After weeks of examination, I found out it is NEITHER of those things.

The real reason that the athletic training room is a sanctuary is I get to watch 40+ year old males have intimate relationships with college students.

And when I say intimate, I mean romantic.

And when i say romantic, I mean I just spewed stomach acid all over my keyboard.

As fun as it is to listen to a man who is old enough to be the girls father flirt with her, and sometimes, even FIGHT like a real couple, there are several things I would rather be doing.

Like...gouge my eyes out with a melon-baller.

Since there were no melon-ballers readily available, I settled for eavesdropping on the conversations between college student and guy that is way older than college student but is dating college student. Which makes this college student feel very uncomfortable. And it's not just the electric pulses being sent through my joints.

I picture their fights going something like this.

(Please note: I am technically* an expert in lip-reading, so this conversation is 100% accurate and 0% hypothetical.)

*Not technically.


"So....I saw that you were rubbing her legs EXTRA long. That was annoying to watch. I mean...right in front of me!?"

"Babe, she has muscle cramps, and it wasn't a she...that was the starting defensive tackle for the football team..."

"Oh BULLSHIT don't give me that. If that was a football player, that was the most feminine lower body I have ever seen! I'm leaving...I'll leave...I'll find another 45 year old to date, I promise."

"Babe you know I wouldn't lie to you. You are the only 21-year-old for me!"

"Oh you're so sweet! Meet me at 3 for a private ankle-taping session. I'll bring the pre-wrap."

Me: "Um....excuse me...could I, uh, get some ice please?"

If you have read up to this point, you can probaly guess that I am making this entire thing up. EOU doesn't have an athletic training room, much less the technology of "ice."

However, this does not take away from the fact that I have implimented this "flirtation" strategy into many of my classes, in the interest of getting good grades.

Turns out, in order for this to be effective, you have to be attractive to middle aged woman. I think the fact that I look like an oversized 12-year-old is a slight turn off to college professors.

"Heeey....so...that test was kinda hard. Do you think I could stay after class for some extra-credit?"

"Sean, I have sons that are older than you. 2 of them. And you are drooling all over my desk. Take your C+, and please, never, ever look at me like that again."

Turns out the professor was male, and I lit some candles, and there were rose-pedals laid out on the desk, and my shirt was off, and the president of the university was watching the whole thing, but the moral of the story is....Math 105 sucks.

I've become very involved in Fantasy Basketball lately. Something I am not man enough to admit in person, so I write it impersonally over the internet.

I have been known to waste at least an hour of my day checking box scores, proposing trades, telling my roommate my team is better than his, and attempting to ACTUALLY own Kobe Bryant and Pau Gasol in real life. But everytime I call the NBA players office, they assure me that fantasy basketball is just that: Fantasy, and I cannot legally purchase another human being; even if they are from Spain, and I offer to pay in black beans and yarn.

I assure them that they are widely considered insane, and to not wreck my dreams of having Baron Davis walk around campus with me, and do my dishes when I ask him to.

Um....you missed a spot B-Diddy!

Whose fantasy NOW!?

Aside from that, I have recently been informed that congress is passing a law that REQUIRES everyone to have a subscription to Men's Health.

As I have been reading this for 6 months now, I can understand their reasoning.

How ELSE are you supposed to know that the Omega-3's in Salmon improve your eyesight? And that eating Pistachio's 2 times a day decreases your chance of heart disease!

And eating an apple a day actually makes you grow 3 inches taller, makes your biceps bigger, and actually makes you overall immortal, and bulletproofs your skin, like Lance Armstrong.

Thanks Men's Health!

Anyway, when you get older, make sure to eat your salmon, dont succumb to the temptations offered by your young students, and think twice before flirting with 20-year-olds. It could lead to a long term relationship. Or even worse...a mandatory Men's Health subscription.

Until next time, keep eating pistachios, and I will keep thinking of reasons as to why this blog, much like gravity, should not exist.

Peas.