Lynda Schor

                                                    Teacher Evaluation

Course: Defeating the Chronological—Fiction

Hey, I think these evaluations are stupid and useless, and I probably would leave

this one blank just as a statement—but Adrianna warned us not to blow these off.

That it’s important to take these stupid evaluations seriously because they will be

checked out by the administration, the head of the writing department and even the

Dean, and they will be kept in her file forever, and if they are bad or not filled in she

could lose her job, even though her job is teaching eight courses a semester with no

benefits and no retirement, and that is considered part time. And even though she is

40,000 dollars in debt from student loans.  She said to remember that this is the one

and only time we students get a chance to have any say at all in our preferences or

our professors or our curriculum even though we are the ones paying tuition.  How

understandable are her assignments, 1- 5?  Hey, I don’t even get the title of the

course.  How helpful is she, 1 – 5?  She, Adrianna, (she wants us to call her by her

first name) is very helpful and if you don’t understand something during class she

will be glad to meet with you in her office.  I took her other class, Plot is a 4-letter

Word, so I do get more than most students, but I like to go to her office in the

basement where I fantasize having wild sex with her because her Hotness, 1 – 5 is a

1! Except for those black clothes she wears. I do like her black leather boots, and

her vintage eyeglasses.  I imagine removing them and placing them on her desk

before moving in close and breathing in her subtle citrus-y perfume.  Are her classes

interesting, 1 – 5.  too much depends on whether students who are reading their

writing assignments out loud have written something interesting—which is not too often.

 Adrianna has said, Don’t expect me to entertain you—if class is boring it is

because you haven’t written inspiring and interesting material.  But I don’t think it’s

our responsibility to keep the class interested.  Are her assignments clear, 1 – 5?

 Hmm.  For the most part they are, though they are often hard and she expects an

entire story, at least a first draft, once a week. And her assignments are weird, like

reading a story from a book by Robert Olen Butler, and then telling us to write a

story inspired by the National Enquirer or some other stupid rag.  Do we need to go

to college for that? And who cares about Virginia Wolf any more?  Does anyone

need to read Orlando?  I did like the assignment to write a user’s manual for our

genitals.  We had a very funny time reading those—though the surprise visitors to

our class, a prospective student (cute, with a long pony tail) and her mother (dumpy

and old—maybe 35) walked out before the end of class.  Most of us write entirely

too much about sex—I know I do—but Adrianna says there should be much more

writing about sex since most people think about sex all day long and we have to

make up for all the literature that doesn’t mention sex at all.  One thing that really

pisses me off—this writing class should be called Literature, because we are mostly

reading other writers.  We don’t need to be reading so much and discussing Barth,

and Barthes, when we should be WRITING!  Is this professor available for meetings

and for advising 1 – 5?  You bet she is, if you can find her new office in the basement,

a little dark hole with no windows near the boiler room where they have put all the

adjuncts.  There’s a tiny piece of paper taped to the door with the room number, if

you can call it a room.  It took me three hours to find it, and then Adrianna was mad

because I was late.  Is that my fault, I said?  She looked at me with that

non-judgmental laid-back look she uses when someone is walking out in the middle

of a class, or lobbing spitballs while someone is reading, and said, I have my other

job to go to.  But come in, we can talk for fifteen minutes.  I can fuck you in fifteen

minutes I thought, imagining grabbing her bushy curls in one hand and pulling back

her head.  My other hand would be all over her breasts, which you can see are

unbound by any bra.  That is when she turns her head to tell me that I am going to

fail her class, not because of the quality of my work, which is fine—but because I

have missed four classes, and have been late for a few.  I warned you before, it’s on

your syllabus, she says, but I can hardly hear her, as I’ve smashed her against that

plank against one wall of the office that’s supposed to be a desk, and with the hand

not holding her hair, I pull down her tight black jeans.  I let go of her hair and put a

hand over her mouth because by that time she’ll be moaning, and wanting to suck

me off, but I will turn her so that her waist is across the desk, and her breasts easy

to reach around to.  I am pressing my entire body along her back, from my chest to

my thighs, and she is writhing so much it almost makes me cum. But I don’t want to

cum right now so I press hard against her so she can’t move—I’m going to spread

her legs and stick my hard cock into her ass.  Don’t just write generic sex, she says.

 That’s boring.  Stay with your characters.  How would your characters in your story

have sex?  Take the chance to reveal much more about your characters than you

could if you didn’t have them having sex.  Don’t forget dialogue and description.  A

moment of intimacy can be so revealing.  It’s the difference between pornography

and good writing.  Aw, come on, I say, my long, rock-hard cock between her cool

smooth ass cheeks.  You know I deserve an A, I say, punching my livid cock into her

waiting hole as hard as I can.