Thursday, August 09, 2007

how i accidentally photographed my shirtless professor a half hour before class

You know what kind of sucks? All my professors are hip and know how to perform interwebular activities, and so I can't gossip about them on here 'cause they'd find me. And since there are only a handful of other people studying poetry (and since, you know, I have my name and picture on here) they'd know it was me. Not that I have any good stories (or do I? this place is kind of like the world's most literary soap opera).

Okay, so I kind of have one story. I mean, I have been here almost a week. (Even though this happened on Wednesday.)

I don't think I'll use his name, even though I'm the butt of this joke. I don't know what the hell kind of reputation I think he'll get from this, anyway, (or how many people I've deluded myself into thinking actually read this) other than maybe having unfortunate timing. And everyone here has already heard this story twice.

So I have my new camera, and I recently realized I do, in fact, exist in the 21st century and the thing has a zoom. Because it's, you know, digital. I took some pictures of my cavernous room and then I took some pictures of the view from my bedroom. Then I decided to try to figure out the zoom and to see how precise it is, so I tried to photograph my own license plate in the parking lot. So I zoomed in and in and in and the lens was out as far as it could go, a good several inches.

Because I was trying to make out my license plate, I didn't notice that my professor, apparently coming from the pool, was walking by the window. And there I was, in all my backlit, bedroom-window-peering zoom-lens glory -- and he, half-dressed. Did I mention the flash went off?

I know Scott's going to ask, and no, you can't see it -- I deleted the picture as soon as I took it, because I knew that if I kept it, someone would wind up looking through my pictures on the camera and then would stop, think for a few seconds, then cock his head to the side like a Golden Retriever and say, "Amanda, can I ask why..."

He wound up not even noticing (because I had to ask him when I saw him in class shortly thereafter) and thought it was hilarious -- his only question was, "So, how'd I look?"

6 comments:

nate said...

and how did he look? haha, smooth move Amanda. I think Scott and I might have to pool some money together to get you to take another picture xD

Scott said...

::mumble mumble:: God Damn It, Amanda! I wanted to see that. ::mumble mumble::

Scott said...

P.S. Drive carefully coming back. :)

Sarah said...

Yeah, I wanna know how he looked!

P.S. I came here from Nate's site.

Amanda said...

Didn't someone say you should know your readers? Or maybe that was "yourself." Which is mainly who my readers are...me. Anyway, I knew you'd all ask that. Except New Girl. I didn't know she was out there. Welcome to New Girl! You'll have a better nickname eventually, I promise.

So, like I said, all the profs are computer-literate and it's a very real possibility he could actually see this.

Of course, in reality, no one cares. So yeah, he looked good.

(Sweet. Now I've set an uncomfortable tone for the rest of my grad-school career. Although I think I'm that girl wherever I go and whoever I talk to.)

Scott said...

Oh please. We all know you are the type that will end up boinking the eccentric, yet strangely smoldering Professor McCreepy, and then go on to write a tell-all article for The New Yorker about how you were used for your body and mind. This will coincide, strangely enough, with your book tour of poems not-remotely related to said boinking.

Yeah, that's it. Then I will live vicariously through you.

P.S. I'll give up on the shirtless prof if you can produce the nudies of your brother. :giggle: