Sunday, September 26, 2010

Eleven Minutes

I was reading Eleven Minutes in an empty classroom.

Professor: Hello
Me (looking up from the book): Good Afternoon, Sir.
Professor (hereby ‘He’): What are you reading?
Me: Eleven Minutes.
He: You like Coelho?
Me: No, Sir. I’m not particularly fond of him. Though I don’t quite dislike what I’m reading presently.
He: What does he mean by Eleven Minutes?
Me: Sir, Eleven Minutes is the exact time required for a girl to part her legs and a man to penetrate her.
He: Oh! I see. (Pause)
So, did you choose to speak like this today or is this the way you talk usually?
Me: Sir, this is just me.
He: Are you a virgin?
Me: Pardon?
He: Are you a virgin?
Me: Yes, Sir.
He: Never had sex? Why not?
Me: Sex does not interest me, Sir.
He: How can you say that if you never had sex?
Me: I do not like war, Sir. And I did not have to wage a war to know that.
He: But that is war. This is love.
Me: It’s all the same. They run parallel: together and apart. (Standing up) I got to go, Sir.
He: Wait. Where are you going? We were talking.
Me: About?
He: About love. (Pause) And war.
Me: No. You are wrong. We were talking about sex and war.
(Pause) Have a nice day, Sir. Excuse me, please.
He: How can you go like this? This is unfair.
Me: (walking away) Everything is fair in sex and war, Sir.

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