My "slutty" Spanish professor

Yeah, that got your attention.

It ain't quite that bad. Sorry for being over-sensational. But needless to say, some of the outfit choices of my mid-forties, smallish Italian Spanish teacher (by that I mean she's Italian, she teaches Spanish) have raised some questions in my mind. NOT those kind of questions.

Granted, I'm a pretty free-spirited individual, and not much offends me. Even a slightly risque ensemble in a place of higher-learning is tolerated without second thought, and sometimes appreciated. But when the body enclosed in that real low-cut dress and/or top (or in one case, that see through blouse with bra well-visible) is the same one you are sort of required to stare at for an hour plus, certain dificulties arise. NOT those kind of difficulties.

Namely, a typical male, who is in no means attracted to this bastion of Spanish knowledge, cannot help but let his focus drift toward certain things from time to time -- despite constant attempts not to (and at some point it honestly becomes easier and even logical to just let it happen). Call me perverted or disgusting or whatever. I'm not. But my eyes are drawn to certain attributes -- the same ones y'all ladies know you do your best to accentuate -- even when there is no objective beyond learning some linguistic history of the Spanish language.

To the point: during one of my recent "mindslides," I found myself pondering whether I was a fan of this interesting development or if it was an annoyance I would rather do without. Never before could I even have considered making the argument that my professor's clothes were inappropriate for learning. And hell, outside of class, I'd view her as on top of her Euro fashion and think nothing of it. But I honestly struggle to focus in class, and at this point, with its progression into an internal debate, it's become even more of a problem.

In the end, I think I am a fan. After all, I have self-diagnosed ADD, and this is one of the better outlets I've ever encountered -- and it was just thrust upon me. It certainly beats drawing weird geometric shapes or staring at the ceiling. And it makes class interesting and fun, and who knows if I actually listen to more or less of what she says as a result of her wardrobe choices. (After all, I'm always terrified I'll be caught staring, so I'm constantly on my toes -- so maybe it's just a well-concealed and geniusly conceived teaching method).

Plus, it reminds me slightly (in age only, not in looks) of my long-lost 39-year-old hottie (she's probably a ripe 40 now -- just to further shock you prudes)