The class was easy, but be warned. Gaja (or as I like to think of him, the little man) can be very flirtatious with his students. At first is may seem fun and flattery, but don't be fooled. It's all an ego game. As I write this, hot tears run down my cheeks and I lacerate myself to subdue the emotional agony of my ruined heart.
Of course, he is an intoxicating performer, illustrating the rolling of his "rrrrrrss" with a little shake of his hips, and pulling his underwear out of his jeans to illustrate the Esperanto term for "unmentionable". And he will get touchy-feely, too. He actually put his arm all the way around one student's shoulders, practically cuddling the poor, defenseless lad in front of the whole class. Needless to say, the victim spent the rest of the class with a folder in his lap.
Oh, but who could really claim that such innocent pranks are inappropriate, when little Gaja is so @%&$#@* loveable. So loveable, in fact, that I've begun stalking him. I now know where he lives and where he shops for his groceries. In the guise of a friendly conversation after finals were over, I managed to gather all kinds of factoids about his schedule and also about his personal life. He was remarkably forthcoming.
You may think I am obsessed, but after the twelve pages of love poetry and short story centered on a dominance/submission theme that I penned for him were so well recieved (he told everybody in his department about it, the braggert!), I believe I am entitled to at least two semesters of stalking. Oh, I also found out where he buys that underwear. I plan to stuff a package of it into his male slot...uh....I meant mail slot.
He is MY turtle dove. So stay away from him. If he tries to touch you in class, remember that. Slap his hand. I have to go now. He is going to be on the 116th street subway platform in ten minutes.