  This hottie alert brought to you by the UMC. Yes, folks, that stands for the United Methodist Church. I went to church this morning. I've gone every morning since I've been here, because not going only unleashes the wrath much worse than any this God person can hand out.
It unleashes endless hours of lecturing at the hands of my grandmother, and now you'd pile on top of that, every old person in town, along with everyone where I teach. In this town, if you don't go to church, you're considered a leper. But, I digress. I said hottie alert, damnit, and I'm not even kidding this time (I'm actually putting it in writing--that's enough proof right there--but even this hottie has his flaws).
I'm sitting in church this morning, minding my own business (aka, trying desperately to get comfortable, but not too comfortable as to fall asleep--the pews are uncomfortable for folks over 5'4"--not enough leg room to cross and/or uncross the legs, and no place to go with the feet except straight under the pew), and this drop dead gorgeous creature strolls in and parks himself in the pew in front of me. Clearly it was his first venture into this particular church, because no one knew who he was judging by the not-so-quiet whispering going on from the back to the front of the small church (old people's perception of a quiet whisper is a little off).
Another dead giveaway was his confusion as to what to do with his well-over-six-foot frame in this no-one-over-five-foot-four pew. He was at enough of an angle to me that he saw me out of the corner of his eye and noticed the same sort of issue, to which he asked quietly for some pointers.
Now, I'm very rarely speechless, and even more rarely flustered by a good looking man, but this one was just so perfectly....perfect, I nearly had to roll my tongue back up into my mouth before I could answer. Instead I answered with a demonstration (I'd go into it, but this story is already becoming too long for Mr. H's taste--I'm sure I'll get a call bright and early about it). Anyway, this man's name is Jason, and he's a model from West Virginia, in town to visit his grandparents for a week or so.
Those of you who know this place can imagine my shock that someone from this town could have genetically produced such a fine specimine of a male. He, being in an industry where looks are everything, asked me where to find a good gym around here. Me, being an insider around these parts, scoffed and said there are no good gyms around here, but I'd be willing to supervise the high school weight room if he needed to work out on whatever he could find in there.
He, apparently being used to getting whatever he wants whenever he wants, took me up on the offer, but requested a workout a half hour from that exact moment. Of course, then I had to tell the silly model that the weight room is locked up tight on the weekends. He, of course, reminded me that as a faculty member, I have a key. Hey, how 'bout that, he was right, I do have a key. And I, being a slight bit scatterbrained, had yet to take advantage of that, so I caved and went to let the pretty guy work out and work out a bit myself.
Sunday workouts? This is the first in many months. [Mr. H will love this portion of the story] Anyway, while he was working out, I realized he was a lot more interested in watching me work out than he was in actually working out himself. And, of course, there was the inevitable attempt at a come-on, to which I knocked down. And then, the creme-de-la-creme, he grabbed my ass on the way to the car. Those of you that have seen this happen to me, also have seen what happens to anyone who thinks they can cop a little feel without any repercussions. Let's just say he found himself face-down in a snow drift with his arm twisted up behind his head and a knee into his back.
From then through the ride back to his dear old grandparents' house (who I know and have nothing but respect for), he was a completely different person. I get the impression that he's not used to having a woman turn him down, let alone knock him down and threaten to break his arm if he didn't quit acting like such a douche-bag. He appologized probably 17 times in the 15 minute ride. I think he thought I would press charges or something, I don't know, but the turn-around was stunning.
So, stunning, in fact, that I said if he behaves himself, he's welcome to use the weight room before, at lunch, or after school this week if he let me know he was coming in advance so I could make sure it was open and supervised. Chances are good, it won't be tomorrow. Fucking winter weather. We're already 2 hours late because it's supposed to snow tonight and blow like a banshee in the morning. Do you know how long I actually worked last week? Not very damn long. This weather gets shittier and shittier the further into February we get.
If it's not snowing a half of a foot, it's so far below zero that the school buses won't start or the wind chill is farther than 35 below, so by school mandate, we have to have a late start. My morning class seems to start at like noon lately. Speaking of morning, I should go to bed. I'm expecting a phone call no later than 6am. 
