There is a fascinating love triangle in my last class of the day.
Rico Suave owns a couple of the ladies, for he is a pimp like that.
Witness the contenders. One young lady is busty with long flaxen locks. Her prized possession, sadly, is her cleavage. She may forget books, assignments, writing utensils, but the cleavage she brings every day. Prominently displayed.
The other young lady, you have to admire her energy. She is the size of a saint bernard with the temperament of a wet chihuahua on crack. Rico Suave owns her. You hear me? He owns her. She is on time every day, waiting, waiting for Rico. She doesn't really exist until he enters the room. She waits quietly until he makes his usual late entrance and then she's ON! She hits Rico! The laughs at his jokes! She squeals with delight with his every effort to dismantle learning! I am sure he finds her witty and charming.
But how can the poor Chihuahua compete with Cleavage? She doesn't have to do anything. She's just--or they're just---there. In class. Rico hits and teases Chihuahua, he speaks to Cleavage in his smoovest Barry White impression.
I feel a teeney bit sorry for the Chihuahua. Just a bit. When I called her to the hall on some minor offense, I asked her why she allows Rico to control her, she is outraged, but in a giggly way.
I am moving them apart, but it fascinates me. Like National Geographic it fascinates me.