Date: Sun, 15 Jul 2007 16:58:49 -0700 (PDT)
From: Albert <ms1averne@yahoo.com>
Subject: My Teacher...is a... FAG

Well, it's that time of year again.  Holidays, mid terms, exams, and
general chaos everywhere.  I was trying desperately to finish my few
remaining chores and get outta the classroom.  I needed a break from my
class, I had plenty work to do, but I needed a few days off.  I was just
walking into the cloakroom when I heard a faint knock at the door.  After
a minute or so the knock was a little louder.  Just as I went to answer
it one of my students stuck his head in the door.  "Mr Holt, you in
here?  It was Tyrone, a young black male.  He was a junior, about 17 I
think.  Maybe 18, I'd heard he had repeated an earlier grade before but I
wasn't sure.  "Can I holla atcha fo' a minute" he asked.  I really didn't
have any objections excpet that I wanted to leave so badly.  He shuffled
in, baggy jeans sagging down his hips like they wear these days, baseball
cap on backwards and a shiny new b-ball jersey.  "Study for these exams
Tyrone", i said, trying to sound encouraging.  He just shrugged and
didn't say anything.  We stood there for a few awkward seconds and again,
trying to encourage him I said "You know you can do the work and I know
you can too".  Again nothing, he was an o k student.  He'd started out
very well, straight B's and the occasional A but of late he was sliding
back to C's and D's.  I didn't want this trend to continue so i wanted to
encourage him a little.

"I'm trying to get out of here Tyrone" I said.  He went to speak but for
some reason held his tongue.  Again, a few more awkward moments and I
asked again what did he want?  Finally after what seemed like hours he
asked "Mr Holt - is there anyway I can like, ya know, anyway you can like
loan me a passing grade - I mean jes let me borrow a good grade to pass
dis test...I mean I jes wanna know if i can like, ya know, borrow a good
grade fo' a lil while and like, ya know, pay it back later?"  He sure
caught me off guard with that one.  I shook my head no and told him that
if he needed extra help there were plenty of tutors available to help him
study.  He wanted no parts of that.  "Naw, naw, dey can't help me none"
he said.  "I got myself dis particular problem, where I can't concentrate
on nuthin' rite now, see what I'm saying, I can't git my focus rite fo'
dese tests".  I wondered if he was having domestic problems or abuse
problems at home.  He assured me it was nothing like that.  "I jes got
dis lil problem where I can't git focused on dese tests".  I asked what
kind of problem.  "Well, it's kinda personal" he responded.  Since he
said it wasn't abuse or anything I still had hopes of getting out of
there soon.  "Well, Tyrone, if i were you I would just leave this problem
on hold for awhile and concentrate on these mid-terms, get my priorities
straight" I tried to sound hopeful.  He shook his head and a few more
moments of awkward silence followed.  "I jes can't git my mind rite, rite
now, fo' dese tests" he repeated.  Again I reminded him about the tutors,
he shrugged me off again, "naw, naw, dem tutors ain't 'bout nuthin'" he
insisted.  I felt I'd done just about all I could do and went about
stuffing my briefcase when he again interrupted..."Can't i jes like, ya
know, jes git you to loan me a grade til I git dis problem taken care of,
you said yo'self you know I can do the work?"  I explained that was not
only against the rules but not fair to the other students.  He
interrupted "yeah, but nobody'll know, it could be jes like...let me git
a, like C+ or even a B, jes fo' a minute and like I can make it up later
in the year".  He made it sound so simple, but I couldn't do it.  Again I
held fast.  "And" he began, "it's not only jes fo' me, but it's
mutual...I can roll dat way - fo' a minute".  I had no idea what he was
talking about.  More awkward silence.  Then he spoke up again " See, if I
can jes like, ya know borrow dis grade fo' a minute and like ya know,
make up for it later on, cuz...dat is, if I think I'm right, I mean I
know I am...cuz, like...I jes gotta be right and dat's all it is to it".
He'd lost me completely.  I was totally clueless.  "Well Tyrone" I said,
"study hard, if you need a tutor just call any of them, their numbers are
on the bulletin board in the main hallway"  I could see he wasn't about
to give up so easily.  I had hoped to be on my way home by now.

"Well look, who would it hurt" he began "if i jes...like, borrowed dis
grade, jes fo' a minute, dat's all, ain't like I'm asking to pass da
whole class, but jes fo' a minute and like, ya know, uhh, make it up
later in the year, what's so wrong 'bout dat?"  I stood there for a
minute, not answering, and slowly I went to sit at my desk.  I was trying
to think of something to reason with him.  He gestured in front of me,
shaking his head, waving his hands.  He was about 6'1", maybe 175 or
180lbs, I could picture him as a wide receiver for some college team.  He
was incredibly athletic looking.  Not an ounce of fat on him.  I looked
at him and took in all his magnificent glory.  His smooth, dark skin and
creamy white, very pretty and even, straight white teeth.  His dark eyes,
his short haircut, tapered just right, his long boney but hard fingers,
his strong hands, the thin wiry biceps, sinewy thighs and that incredible
six pack he had.  I wished I looked like him.  I thought to myself that
this guy probably never has any trouble with girls, black or white.  It
seems he and Donnessa, another junior were seeing each other.  Donnessa
was just the opposite, caramel skinned, very short - about 5'2", full
figured, goodness her chest and hips looked like they belonged on a grown
woman.  She'd had a baby about a year earlier when she was maybe 15 or
16, I wondered if Tyrone were the father.  She hung out with Charmaine,
another junior in one of my classes.  Charmaine was a Queen Latifah
clone, almost.  Barely 18, but looking like 25 or 30.  She was very loud
and extremely aggressive - you know the type, running everybody else's
business, constantly interrupting the class, abusive and full of
attitude.  She had 2 babies.

"Like I was saying, Mr Holt" tyrone snapped me back to the present.  "Dis
ain't jes fo' me, but about right now, it can be mutual, cuz I jes know I
gotta be right"  Still had no idea what he was talking about.  I had made
up my mind now to leave, I should've been home by now anyway.  "Tyrone,
put your problems in perspective, you know what you have to do, do the
improtant thing right now and get a good grade on these tests..." I
hesitated - "call one of the tutors" -  "Naw, naw, fuck dem" he
hollered.  He actually scared me.  I was too afraid to speak, and just
let it slide.  "Well, I ain't mean 'dat" he said.  I was ready to go, I
mean I wanted out now, nothing against him, but I wanted to get home,
pronto.

"Well, like, I know I'm right" he said, "I jes gotta be, it don't make no
sense no other way".  Again, I'm clueless...Tyrone, you must study for
this exam, it's very important for your overall grade for the year."  I
could tell he wasn't listening, not even trying to listen.  He was just
shaking his head.  I didn't know what else to do, I felt I'd done just
about all I could do.  I closed up my briefcase and stood up to go when
Tyrone got up and said "jes fuck it, forget I even asked, I don't see
what's so wrong 'bout trying to git help passin' dis exam".  He scared me
again, right down to my socks.  "I could roll dat way fo' a minute, I
really could" he said.  The tension in the room was just about
unbearable, I knew I had to make my move now or it'd be no telling when I
would get out of there.  "Tyrone"...I began, he interrupted abruptly -
"don't nobody wanna help nobody no mo', it ain't even dat bigga deal"  I
smiled and turned to leave.  I encouraged him one last time to seek aid
from the tutors, but again he just waived me off.  "dat shit ain't rite"
he said to me.  I didn't know what he expected from me.  I'd reached my
wits' end.  "Mr Holt, you don't even care..."  I stopped in my tracks, I
turned around slowly, not wanting to offend him, because I was actually
afraid of him.  Yes I admit it, he really scared me.  I didn't hink he'd
get ruff or anything, but he scared the piss outta me anyway.  Now I was
afraid to leave for fear of offending him.  I took a deep breath and
fianlly gathered up enough courage to speak.  "Tyrone, please" I pleaded,
"just try & get some help with your studying and do the best you can, you
know you're a good student, I know it as well".

Again he wasn't listening, just shaking his head.  I felt I shouldn't
leave without at least making a sincere effort to try to reach him
somehow.  "Everybody has problems at one time or another" I ad-libbed.
"But to see a smart kid just give up like that is very distressing"  I
barely had time to finish when Tyrone jumped up and said "shit, dat's
what's wrong, a damn kid, you think I'm just a damn kid".  "No, I didn't
mean it like that" I stammered.  Too late he was just about to boil
over.  I realized I'd blown it.  I was downright scared to death now, his
aggression was rising, I almost shit my pants I was so scared.  "I'm
sorry", I weakly stammered, like a - bitch...I was so fucking
pathetic...almost as if I were afraid he was gonna kick my ass or rob
me.  "Tyrone, I'm, deeply sorry" I profused.  He just kept shaking his
head and saying "a damn kid, you think I'm a damn kid".  "No, no,no" my
pathetic bitch ass kept repeating, actually stuttering would be a better
description, I was this close to shitting my pants by now.

To my horror and/or amazement...Tyrone unzipped himself to me and
demanded "Is dis a damn kid Mr Holt, is it???"  I couldn't believe it.
He exposed himself to me, a fabulous piece of deep dark chocolate about 8
or 9 inches long.  My mouth fell open, my breath stuck in my throat, I
could feel my heart beating in my chest, I was paralyzed with fear and
excitement.  I went blind for a second.  I didn't know what to do, I
couldn't move, I couldn't speak, I couldn't blink, I couldn't
breathe...it was as if I turned into a statue.  "Well, Mr Holt...is dis a
damn kid" he demanded.  "Is it" he roared.  "Tell me, is  dis a damn
kid?"  Again. like the punk ass little scared bitch I am, I just weakly
shook my head.  He stepped closer to me.  I was paralyzed with fear, I
couldn't move, he knew it.  I just gave myself up for dead.  I prayed he
wouldn't hurt me.  At the last second I thought I could give him my
wallet or car keys or something and he would spare me.  Now he was
directly in front of me, effectively blocking my exit from the room.  I
gripped the handle of my briefcase until my knuckles turned white.  He
gripped his prick right in front of me and I instinctively raised my
briefcase up to protect my face.  He laughed, because then, he knew he
had me just where he wanted me.  He stepped closer and I began praying, I
was trembling and sweating.  I decided I would just go down with his
first punch and just play dead.  He could have my wallet and car keys,
just please don't hurt me.  Scared little punk bitch that I was.

"I said - is dis a kid, Mr Holt"  he raised his prick up to me only a few
inches away.  Totally freaked out with fear, I again weakly shook my
head.  "What???"  he bellowed.  Somehow I managed to whisper the words
"no, no" which made me sound like an even more little punk ass pathetic
bitch.  "See I know what time it is, Mr Holt...and I been peepin' yo'
game...I mean, I knew what I saw...I knew I was right, 'bout you...I jes
knew I was...it had to be, it jes had too."  Right then I gave myself up
for dead and decided to accept my fate.  Tyrone stepped even closer, his
fabulous prick only two or three inches away.  His smile, his pretty
white teeth, that gleam of total confidence in his eyes...I felt like he
could take those pretty teeth and bite me around the neck and drag me off
to his lair or something.

"See. I don peeped yo' game Mr Holt,"  I swallowed so hard it hurt my
throat, I hoped he hadn't heard it, but you know he did.  "I knew I was
right 'bout chu...I jes had to be, I mean i ain't never been wrong 'bout
dis' shit before, so I had to be rite".  My bottom lip was trembling, my
knees were knocking, my hands were shaking and I started feeling as if I
were about to faint.  My knees were about to give out, so I let myself
slump back against the blackboard.  Grinning, Tyrone moved in even
closer.  His prick was now rock hard, like a Greek Adonis or something,
almost as if it were carved out of marble, the ridges in it, the veins
running up and down the length of this smooth coal-black prick had me
cornered like a snake with a rat.  Tyrone leaned over to me, fabulous
prick in hand, he smiled again with all those pretty teeth, all those
gorgeous, lovely white teeth, his creamy white teeth...well you get the
picture.  His pretty teeth hypnotized me.  They held me at bay.  "I knew
what was goin' on first day I saw you" he began.  I could feel his breath
in my face.  Less than an inch seperated us.  My own teeth were
chattering I was so scared, my breathing was labored.  Even tho he was
practically whispering his voice sound like cannon fire to me.  He began
real slow and deliberate, and started to count on his fingers, the long
bony fingers, perfect nails, so hard and shiny, almost as if they had
clear polish on them.  Again, you get the point.  Somehow I was able to
actually look him in the eye and still keep an eye on his perfect,
fabulous - too gorgeous prick.  "This is it" I said to myself, I'm gonna
just play dead.  Tyrone began to count out in a very deliberate tone:
"you ain't married...ain't got no girlfriends...I ain't never seen you
with no women...so you gots ta be ...faggy, baby!"  he accentuated the
baby part.

He was dead right, I had absolutely no women friends at all.  I ate lunch
by myself in the teacher's lounge, I really had nothing to do with any of
the female teachers at all.  I could've kicked myself for being so
stupid.  "Tyrone resumed:  "now like I was saying, you gimme dis grade,
and I could roll yo' way for a minute...jes a minute."  Now I knew what
he meant, it was crystal clear to me now.  I had to convinve him that he
was wrong, somehow I had to convinve him he'd made a mistake about me.
Without angering him and getting me killed in the process.


QUESTIONS and/or COMMENTS:  ms1averne@yahoo.com