Upon my first few days after entering the Art/Graphic Design program, I had noticed something...
Something that just didn't seem right...
Something that I did not see in any of the other buildings or classrooms on campus.
Something powerful and special.
And that SOMETHING was Naked People walking in the halls.
Now mind you, they were in bathrobes, but there were MANY times that these bathrobes were not closed, leaving a bit o' boob, butt, or other beautiful bobbling bites of these cute model babes showing.
Upon seeing this, I almost threw myself on the ground and wept. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven. A heaven where naked girls walked the halls. Where else in the world could you go to oggle naked women without having to stuff twenty bucks into their garter belts or being arrested for hanging off a tree with one hand while peeping in the neighbors window and using your other hand to... uh... nevermind... where was I... Oh yes.
So I finally had my first Life Drawing class after a few semesters of praying for its arrival. Me and my buddies were... to say in simple words... very excited. Yes, we were supposed to be professional and studious art students. Students looking to find the intricacies and truth behind the drawing of human shape and form. We WERE this... but ultimately, me and my buddies were young Horn Dogs first. C'mon. It's college. And we were looking forward to checking out some of these super cute model girls (that we have seen trapsing around in nothing but robes all this time) sans the robes.
The time had arrived. The first day of class.
I was standing there, charcoal in one hand and the BIG drawing paper before me. My buddy was to my right and no matter what we did, we could not help but giggle like Beavis and Butthead.
"Boobs, hehehe, boobs...."
The teacher came in. She was rather a small woman with long hair that definitely had that "I'm an Art Teacher" aura about her. She stopped. Looked around. Then said her greeting to the class. Then, to my absolute happiness, she said the words we waited so long to hear.
"Welcome to the first day of class. I see everyone is here, so let's not mess around and get right into it. Our model for the day is coming in right now. Get your charcoal and drawing paper ready."
My heart started sputtering. It was beating so hard that I thought I was going to pass out. I looked over to my buddy. He seemed to be worse off. Just a giant grin on his face and still mouthing what looked to be "Boo...Boo...Boobs".
Yes... we were total dorks. But this was going to be a most beautiful time in our Art School lives. The red curtain that covered the changing area began to move, my breathing became faster and more sloppy. "Cool, this is cool, this is c..."
And my words stopped RIGHT THERE as our model pulled back the curtain and.... out.... walked a....
DUDE!!!!
"Hi everyone"
(please say this with the thickest gay lisp that you can while waving your hand around)
"My name's Paul and I just can't WAIT to see the pictures you draw of me. It'll be FUN!!!"
God had played a horrible, terrible, cruel joke on us. He had stripped away our dreams of naked megababes and left us with... Happy Paul. I was about ready to get past my total state of despair... but then God had one last joke to play upon me and my buddies.
Paul went up, quickly disrobed and his... uh... lets call it his Fellow American... dropped into site. When I say dropped, there is a reason for this. You see. Paul was also hung like Godzilla. I went to immediatly jab out my eyes with the charcoal in my hand, but decided that this would probably not be good for my future career.
I could hear all of the girls in the class make audible noises of surprise (and perhaps admiration) at his swinging super sausage. As the girls ooohed, the guys all gave out a sigh of dejection. (I take that back, I think there was ONE guy towards the back that oooohed as well)
AWKWARD PAUSE.
Now I was both sad for not seeing any boobs AND felt like Mr. Teeny-Weenie next to Goliath out there. I was not the only one. I looked around at all of the other guys' faces and saw the same expression. A one-two punch to the ego.
It was a cruel day indeed.
