My wife looks at me with guns blazing in her eyes and pretends to say casually: “You forgot to tell me that your Spanish teacher was a hottie.” Uh-Oh. This sounds like the kind of conversation that can only go bad or worse, depending on what my answer is. Think! Fast! It never occurred to me that she was a “hottie” but now that I see her walking away on the beach in her bikini, I realize I am in trouble. If I deny the fact I will sound like a liar. On the other hand, acknowledging that my teacher is sexy doesn’t seem like a good way to end the discussion. The beach suddenly turns into quicksand under my feet. What can I say? Caught completely off-guard, unable to come up with anything more convincing, I reply: “She is just my Spanish teacher. And she is married with a surfer hunk.” Within half a second the lethal weapon reloads and fires again: “Well, so am I.” Strangely this doesn’t feel like a compliment. I’d give anything to change the topic. Fortunately the sun starts to set in the Pacific Ocean, thus providing the ideal diversion.
Had I been a bit sharper I would have said: “Usually she does not show up dressed in a bikini when she teaches Spanish.”