Let no one say I shirk my penance.
I went to the café last night to work on my book. I do that, you know. Lots of people do that. You know, author-type people. I thought the laptop would be enough to make me a sophisticated, eloquent writer, but now I’m thinking I might also need glasses. Considering that I got eye surgery so I wouldn’t have to wear glasses anymore, it seems a little silly to get frames with clear glass now, but I will make whatever sacrifices my muse demands.
Last night, however, I was grateful for my perfect vision. Right across from me, there were four med students studying. They looked young and dedicated, so it was wrong of me to notice that all four of them were entirely hot, graceful with lots of cheekbones and dark hair. I’m sure that each and every one of them wants to be respected for the effort he is putting into learning medicine and his need to heal people. I feel bad that in my mind’s eye I reduced each one to an object, an object of desire and not for his mind. I feel worse that I did it again later, but in different combinations. I don’t know how I’ll be able to face them again the next time I’m at the café, considering how I disrespected their thoughts and feelings, their very personages. I disrespected them in ways they are probably too young and studious to know; they would be horrified if they knew what wanton, shameless roles they played in my reveries. Tonight I will reach for a purer focus, focusing my mind on my work and not on the way these young scholars wore their jeans. I will make it up to them by imagining their diligent concentration rewarded by a thorough understanding of medicine and excellent grades. I will have to sit across from them again, to get the details just right.
Last night, however, I was grateful for my perfect vision. Right across from me, there were four med students studying. They looked young and dedicated, so it was wrong of me to notice that all four of them were entirely hot, graceful with lots of cheekbones and dark hair. I’m sure that each and every one of them wants to be respected for the effort he is putting into learning medicine and his need to heal people. I feel bad that in my mind’s eye I reduced each one to an object, an object of desire and not for his mind. I feel worse that I did it again later, but in different combinations. I don’t know how I’ll be able to face them again the next time I’m at the café, considering how I disrespected their thoughts and feelings, their very personages. I disrespected them in ways they are probably too young and studious to know; they would be horrified if they knew what wanton, shameless roles they played in my reveries. Tonight I will reach for a purer focus, focusing my mind on my work and not on the way these young scholars wore their jeans. I will make it up to them by imagining their diligent concentration rewarded by a thorough understanding of medicine and excellent grades. I will have to sit across from them again, to get the details just right.
posted by Megan at 5:15 PM
12 Comments:
This is also as good as the porn post. Almost. -K.
A (cute, brilliant, single, 30+) female friend regularly complains that guys don't hit on her enough at coffee shops, dog parks, etc. I don't understand it; I certainly do my part.
I appreciate your contributions ptm. The world thanks you.
Just think about the groupies you'll have once you're a published author. You'll be giving a reading, and there they'll be, all dark-haired and be-jean'd and hanging on every word of your appendix on the wastewater permitting process. And then you'll all go have a five-some.
From Mitch's mouth to G-d's ear.
You could serenade them.
They were children! Like, in their mid twenties! I couldn't sing that song to them!
Maybe you could sing Jackson 5's 'Doctor my eyes'?
Billo- I am so sorry but that is Jackson Browne, not the Jackson Five. I admit, though, I never really understood that song until I just googled for the lyrics. It's a tragic song! Tragic.
P.S. I'm back!
P.P.S. That last post and the linked article were chilling - brings it right home to people like me who are not inclined to read a book on water and environmental policy (unless a friend wrote it, of course).
Dubin, it was the jackson 5 !
Either that or I've wasted my childhood listening to someone called Jackson Browne :)
Welcome back from wherever you've been.
< music weenie>
billo, dubin is right. Jackson Brown wrote it. On the other hand, the Jackson 5 recorded it too (and others).
< /music weenie>
s.
Come on "s", give me some credit..you don't think I'd actually LISTEN to Jackson Browne!
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