Another online group lesson. English this time. Two women and one guy. Before the Covid pandemic hit and the lessons took place in their office, one of the women liked to dig her hand in your underwear. Under the table. A covert operation. You always wondered if her colleagues didn’t notice or were just pretending not to notice. No point in complaining, because nobody is going to believe you are being – mildly -sexually harassed by a tall blonde who used to play professional volleyball. It made you uncomfortable, but only for a very specific, very messed up reason. You don’t think your dick deserves any attention unless you have serviced the woman abundantly first. When she catches you in the elevator she sometimes plants very wet, very sloppy kisses on your mouth. She’s so tall it’s like you are being attacked from the air. She never has much time to do it. The elevator ride never takes longer than a minute or so. Best to be polite about these things though. She’s an amazing student and she doesn’t mean this in a bad way. She often apologizes. She was horribly sexually abused by several guys when she was in her early twenties. You will mention the woman you love a few times in future conversations and she will stop with this, without any fuss. She has a heart of gold. She cares about other people so much – well, maybe not so much about her husband – that she often has inexplicable stomach cramps that paralyze her. Of course the doctor can’t find anything. It will take several more years before Gabor Maté will visit this neck of the woods.

She’s married, but she has two lovers, in two different cities. Apparently she’d like to have a third one in a third city. You consider her to be a very good person. You are sure she needs all that arousal to compensate for being a really sweet person in very hostile world.

It keeps amazing you how many questions you can come up with to keep people talking. The more they talk the more mistakes you can correct. They aren’t the least bit interested in anything you are truly passionate about, so you don’t even bother anymore. You just make sure they express themselves. You know all their hobbies. The names of their children. Their birthdays. Their name’s days. Their culinary preferences and dislikes. If their parents are still alive. Where they worked before. They hardly know anything about you. That’s probably a very good thing. It keeps amazing you how many questions you can come up with to keep people talking. The more they talk the more mistakes you can correct. They aren’t the least bit interested in anything you are truly passionate about, so you don’t even bother anymore. You just make sure they express themselves. You know all their hobbies. The names of their children. Their birthdays. Their name’s days. Their culinary preferences and dislikes. If their parents are still alive. Where they worked before. They hardly know anything about you. That’s probably a very good thing.