Congratulations Sexy Math Teacher!

Being a math teacher isn’t all that awesome for most people. It’s a lot of lonely nights surrounded by a lot of really boring textbooks. Unless you spice it up.

Which is what makes you such an exceptional human specimen. You’ve embraced the math teacher persona, growing a pervy mustache and dressing like a mentally handicapped man from the nineteen eighties whenever you’re in public. You’ve spent years cultivating an unbelievably awkward public image of a man who can barely carry on a conversation, let alone a relationship. And today you’re going to unleash that persona on the world so that you can ride on a flooding tide of pity sex that America hasn’t seen the like of since Franklin “Oops My Legs Don’t Work” Delano Roosevelt was president of the United States of Fuck.

You’re going to walk into a bar and order a Tom Collins and just wait there at the bar, sipping it and occasionally adjusting your glasses. After a few minutes the most gorgeous woman in the entire place will step up to you and slide her hand across your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she’ll whisper into your ear. “Are you a math teacher?”

You’ll nod. “Yes’m, suppose I am.”

She’ll slither the rest of her body around yours and start purring.

“I loooooove fractions and low-level instructional proofs. Let’s get back to my place.”

You’ll give her a too-toothy smile. “Well, that just sounds lovely. Barkeep! My check!”

You’ll return to her apartment and fuck her, her roommate, and her roommate’s sister, who is visiting from Seattle for the weekend and wanted to get her freak on.

This pattern will repeat itself every other night for the next three weeks in what some experts will come to call “the most successful pick-up strategy ever seen.” Other people will call it “a sad commentary on the nature of our society.”

You can decide which you find more appropriate from the top of pussy mountain in the weeks to come.

Congratulations Sexy Math Teacher!