Sunday, 9 September 2012

Collegiate Crumpet Bagging

Having failed to woo impressionable buxom young totty in the mean streets of suburban Johannesburg, I've relocated my philandering appetites to a house at the sea, a day-raid's distance from a provincial, oak-laned university town.

The sleepy collegiate hamlet is sardined with callow, sulky-bodied English literature students. Mousey-haired, cardigan-wearing, sun-shy Ophelias haunt the bookshops, shoplifting Brontë anthologies and crowding the Emily Dickinson section thick as barnacles on a ship hull. I've been reliably informed they can be pried off with promises of pale tea, crumpets, and an avuncular readiness to listen to their hand-wringing concerns about global warming, vegan casserole recipes, or to hear their earnest, ink-stained Emo poetry.

If I were to actually charm and butterfly net said Gwendolyn, Harriet, or Miranda, I haven't quite decided quite what I'll do with them. Perhaps begin a salon in the white house at the beach, with me as the Svengali. I'd send them out on earnest errands, like writing indignant pro-vegetarian Belle and Sebastian lyrics on the walls of butcher shops, or acting all-girl Shakespeare B-sides to the culturally disadvantaged at the local YWCA rec centre.

Leery of restless scythe and torch wielding parental lynch mobs, it's perhaps best I steer clear of any amorous interference, and limit titillation to passing my nubile acolytes on the stairs, or evenings of rising sexual tension over Scrabble and Earl Grey tea. Hyperventilating arousal could be cooled when necessary by reading po-faced Nadine Gordimer novels about white guilt, or listening to Andrew Lloyd Webber.

I have placed a personals ad on the English Department noticeboard:

"OMG! Emily Dickinson is the shizz. Seriously, dudes. Awesome! LOL! Recluse stationery fetishist (Male, 40). Possibly out of his depth with today's youth. KTHX! Box 137, Kenton on Sea."

Hope springs eternal.


Anonymous said...

Wishing you well in your relocation to the EC. I look forward to reading about the locals "Boet" and "Swaar"

Jeannie said...

Gah. You're sweet to credit the students with so much literary and philosophical angst. Also, seriously deluded. I was changing at gym today along with two of the nubile young dears, and they spoke about hair for ten solid minutes. Seriously. How the streaks had killed her hair, stone dead, and it had been down to *here* and although the hairdresser wanted to charge her *another* R800 for a cream to fix it, she decided the only thing to do would be to cut it off and just, you know, like start again. (Tragic pause) Friend says sympathetically, shame, didn't you miss it? *SO MUCH* says first student, and the worst is now I know I can never be blonde, cause it just kills it, you know, like stone *dead*. Then she perked up a little, and confided that her boyfriend, who dumped her after the dead hair incident got his comeuppance shortly after...You know Shelley, remember, she had that gorgeous long long blonde hair? Well, he slept with her (No! Oh yes) but she and I talked and she told me her hair was streaked too, and huge chunks of it were coming out *in the shower* So she cut hers off too. Serve him right. Hah!

Students - you're welcome to them fush!!!

Shiny said...

I just had to google KTHX. Seriously. You're at least ten steps ahead of any chances I'd have of bagging a sweet young student... At least you'll understand their text-speak. Although, thinking about their text-speak dampens any perceived desire for a sweet young student I may have had. TTFN xx