It was sex ed week in the fifth or sixth grade,and we had all this technical stuff to memorize, with worksheets…stuff like vas deferns and Fallopian tube and menstrual cycles and X and Y chromosomes. Sex Ed that was all about the biology, not the down-and-dirty. We had one class where everyone had to write down a question (or not) that they were dying to ask or have clarified and pass their papers forward. That way the teacher could provide us with a little anonymity and answer the stuff we were too embarrassed to raise our hands about.
So it was a pretty interesting session, and it was apparent that some kids just were still a bit confused about how it all worked. It was the late 60’s, after all. After class, in the hallway, one boy approached the Health teacher to ask a question in private that he still was confused about. This boy was the class hottie…the guy that took the girls behind the library for kissing and groping. The guy every girl wanted to sit next to. The guy all the other guys looked up to because of his mad skillz with the ladies.
I was just walking by as I heard the exasperated teacher bellow out, in obvious frustration over young Hottie’s inability to grasp exactly where was Slot B that Tab A was supposed to fit into, “Between the legs, man, between the legs!” Poor little Hottie looked up, face all red, and saw me standing there. I had the grace to pretend I didn’t know what he had just asked, and to just keep on walking.
I don’t think Hottie could ever look me in the eye again for a few years, now that I knew that despite his reputation he had no clue about anything below the waist on a woman! To his credit, he learned quickly…but I’ll never forget that look of abject humiliation and embarrassment on his face.