What is it about language teachers? Are they all just weird and creepy or what? Well, I suppose they can’t all be like that, and i should be careful what I say since my sister is one, but seriously, I look back on all the language teachers I’ve had and I just think, honestly, WTF?
There was the pipe-smoking garden gnome-looking dude. I’m not going to mention any names. He was kind of cool, but rumour had it that he was gay (this was twenty-five years ago, btw, so this really was news), and that he had a truly massive schlong. His nickname was ‘Chopper’, because of said enormous appendage.
There was the fabulously overweight dude who always wore those weird tinted glasses that I have always somehow associated with child molesters. You know the kind, eighties radio DJs always seemed to wear them. Now he was actually a nice guy. Or at least, he was nice to me. Is it worth pointing out that I myself was a small and handsome young boy at the time? I don’t know. But he never behaved inappropriately towards me, except by perhaps being a touch over-familiar but that’s not a crime now is it?
The worst wasn’t a gay man or even a man at all, but a woman in her middle years. Doubtless she was very attractive when she was younger, but when I knew her I was only a teenager and she must have been in her lated forties – older than or old enough to be my mother. However, she seemed to take great delight in flirting with me outrageously. Or at least, that’s what I thought, and that’s what all my classmates seemed to think too. I don’t know if I was just a cocky little shit and she was just trying to make me uncomfortable in return for being the class clown, but I tell you, it was weird.
I don’t care how good I was at French, when she came and sat on the desk in front of me I really didn’t know what to do with myself. I suppose I quite liked it, even if she was a bit strange and way, way, way too old for me. C’est la vie!