The Bold and The Awkward

So I mentioned previously that I’ve run into a bit of an awkward situation. This is a situation that many of the other teachers have experienced as well. There is a particular student that seems to have a developed a bit of crush on me. Now this has happened before, but it hasn’t been too serious. And actually my case isn’t nearly as bad as what some other teachers have had to put up with. All the same, she’s been quite persistent, seemingly doing everything short of drawing “Love You” on her eyelids in class. Of course if she does that, I’ll take it as a sign that I should start wearing a brown fedora, buy a bullwhip, and take up archaeology.

Now this doesn’t seem all that bad and in many ways it isn’t. She was one of the dancers who lined the athletes’ entrance at the opening ceremony of the Olympics. Yep, she was one of those unfortunate girls who had to stand there for like two hours shuffling her feet to make it look like she was dancing. Of course this means that she is fairly cute, as we all know that the ugly people in Beijing (particularly little girls who can sing) were frozen in carbonite until the Olympics were over and all the foreigners had left.

It also means that she’s about 21 years old. Not only does this mean that she looks like she’s about 16, but it also means that she acts that way as well. I’ve noticed that the maturity level of the girls here lags far behind their age. I suspect that it’s all the cutesy Japanese and Korean shows that are so popular over here, but I’m not sure. Perhaps you could argue that I’m not one to make judgments since I still laugh at fart jokes and am not above playing with shiny objects for long periods of time. However, this only proves how much more immature she is.

I suppose I should be grateful that she hasn’t gone on a hunger strike or tried to kill me yet. But she has done a few creepy things. The first time she crossed the stalker Rubicon was when she sent me a text message (I don’t even want to explain how she got my number) asking me what I was doing. I was at my desk at work, so I said I was writing an e-mail or something. I asked her what she was doing. The response was: “Looking at you.” My head snapped up so fast I almost shattered the glass behind me. Another message revealed that she was in a place, “where I can see you but you can’t see me.” As it turns out, she was in an office somewhere behind me staring at me through the glass.

The second time she crossed the line was when she wanted to have lunch with me one day, but I was already out having lunch with some friends and discussing a few important things. She sent me a message, but then proceeded to call me before I could reply to the message. I had previously decided that I would try to maintain a friendship with her lest she decide to do something to me or threaten to off herself as some of the other teachers’ stalkers have done. But I promised myself that I would draw the line at chatting with her on the phone. I don’t really know why I drew the line there, but it seemed to make sense at the time.

So I ignored the call and just turned the volume all the way down on the phone. After the first call, I figured she would understand that I was busy. Instead, she took this as a sign that I simply hadn’t heard the phone when it went off, so she called again. I ignored it again, but started looking around cautiously to make sure that she hadn’t spotted me on the radar at Stalker Headquarters, followed me, and figured out that I was purposely ignoring her call. I thought surely after the second call she would get the idea that I wasn’t going to answer the phone. Guess again. I got a third call a minute later. I angrily sent off a message telling her I was busy and that I was already eating lunch. She ended up sulking around and puffing out her cheeks at me for the rest of the evening around the school.

I finally had to sit her down one day and explain to her that I can’t just go around having lunch or dinner with lone female students. I didn’t specifically mention that the teachers are not supposed to have relationships with the students, but she knows well enough. I certainly don’t need rumors to that effect either, since as soon as such a rumor gets started, it makes no difference whether I did anything or not. I suspect that she also knows as well as I do that relationships between the teachers and students are just a bad idea all around, but to make an unnecessary Dark Knight reference, I see her as the Joker to my car. She’s chasing me like a puppy after a car, but if she actually caught me one day, she wouldn’t know what to do with me. I also have a creeping suspicion that many relationships start with one person pursuing the other, but as soon as the fun of the pursuit wears off, so does the attraction.

Anyway, some time after I let her know that it wouldn’t be appropriate for us to hang out alone together, I saw her talking to one of the other male teachers in the hallway of the school. I have to admit that there was a twinge of jealousy and I caught myself thinking, “Hey, don’t forget about me. I’m still… stalkable.” I guess this is the part of the story where you see a freeze frame of her and a big red stamp that says, “The Bold” and then a freeze frame of me and a big red stamp that says, “The Awkward,” followed by some Ennio Morricone music. I only hope that this story doesn’t end up with me riding away into the hills while she yells at me: “Hey Chris, you know what you are? You’re just a dirty son of a – ” and we get another blast of Morricone instead of finding out what I really am.