I went to the library earlier this week. As I walked up to the door I saw a tall blonde with an excellent body. She was dressed in the sort of clothes that strippers wear on their day off. You know the outfit, the tight sweat suit sort of things where the pants are riding a little low and the top shows their midriff. I hate it when fat girls wear those things, but luckily, this girl wasn't fat, so I didn't have to gouge my eyes out with a spoon.
I walked in behind her, and we both went to the elevator, which was cool because I got to check her out the entire time without looking like a creep because that's where I was going anyway. Well, maybe I did look like a creep, but I don't care, because I am a creep, but the main point is that she didn't see me looking like a creep. Or so I thought.
The elevator doors opened, and we both got in. She walked to the back of the elevator, and I turned and punched the button for the fifth floor. There were more people getting in behind me, so I also stepped to the back of the elevator. As I took my first step, a hand reached out and smacked me in the middle of my chest. It was the stripper looking girl.
I was stunned. Not by the fact that she hit me hard, but I was trying to figure out how she possibly could have seen me checking her out. It was impossible. I was out of her line of sight the entire time. As my mind raced to try to think of something to say or do I heard her say, "Hey, how are you?"
For the first time I looked at her face. She was a former student of mine, she just looked different because she'd gone and gotten herself some bleached hair and a boob job.
You'd think that'd be enough to make me change my ways, but it won't.