He was the Hot Visiting Professor lecturing on anthropology/ethnomusicology. I was, in his e-words, "the really cute blonde chick" seated next to his co-presenter.
HVP (no.pun.intended.) was cute, smart, irreverent, and completing a yearlong residency in my neck of the woods. Nothing seemed more logical than electronically come-hithering him mere weeks before he returned the 900 miles from whence he had come. I jotted off a quick congrats on his presentation and, just like that, I met my match and quickly realize I needed to extinguish that spark before yours truly became the really cute, blonde, tinder.
He was WAY flirtatious, and quite aggressive in his academic mumbo-jumbo word play. Lots of "Who is the viewer? Is this an authentic performance? Yada, yada." The exchange lasted only a few days and culminated in this surprising-yet-unsurprising message from him:
shall we proceed to following Bakhtin's utopian advice and temporarily suspend social hierarchies and normative forms of etiquette and behavior in the near term future and ponder over the nature of the occasional beauty of grotesque bodies? it might be extremely gratifying, even if only temporarily so.
Translation, for those who don't speak Psuedo-Erudite Academician: "Let's get naked and *&%$!" Needless to say, Bakhtin went unheeded by Blondie this time.
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