While staring out the window last Tuesday in PAM 322: Public Displays of Nudity of the 13th Century, my friend Josh jabbed me with the talon of a Velociraptor.
“Think about the kind of PDN I could pull off with a lizard like this?
It didn’t matter to me, because I’m taking the class pass/fail, as an elective. Also, my major is 17th Century Nudity, so I won’t have any use for this class in my future. I looked at Josh, who was having a daydream about PDN with dinosaur-sized lizards in a public place.
“I’m not enrolled in the optional one credit lab, PAM 322.7, so I don’t need to plan a final project,” I said.
Josh was lost in thought so I decided to glance down at his notes about PDN. Last year, the group that got an A on the final was composed of one very skinny male who held one rather rotund naked female over his head for seven hours on the Arts Quad. Personally, I hate public displays of nudity. More than seeing public displays of affection, public displays of nudity make me much more uncomfortable. Even when I know the person well, seeing them frolic through the Ivy Room with nothing on but dress socks still manages to make me queasy.
Just the other day, while purchasing a bagel and a Diet Coke at Collegetown Bagels, my girlfriend just started to strip down to her undergarments. Simply because we were in public, I couldn’t help but feel ill at ease. Fortunately, the service was quick and she had to put everything back on before she got any further than her “Hillary 2006” undershirt.
“Why don’t you keep going?” screamed one of the more lewd patrons.
This upset me, and I approached him.
“You like watching that, do you? Well why don’t you get a room and watch something else, like Disney’s Dinosaur, the visually impressive, computer-generated animation/live-action hybrid about an orphaned dinosaur being raised by friendly lemurs.