Sleeping with the Enemy: My Time as an Undercover Spanish 101 Professor
Three reasons I did this:
1. I wanted to fuck mi profesora.
2. I wanted to ruin kids’ lives.
3. I wanted to actually learn some Spanish before going abroad in the fall.
I will begin with an apology: Profesora, you are one of the loves of my life, truly, but we cannot be together. The sex was great, (remember how much of the language we explored? ¡Oy!) pero at the end of the day I am a 20-year-old snake bitch who couldn’t list 20 Spanish words if you held a gun to my head (although your kind, soft hands would never do such a thing.)
How’d I get the job, you ask? Not by knowing Spanish, that’s for shit sure. So I banged my professor, filled out a job application, lied about everything (age, credentials, marital status, insurance), created a legitimately incomprehensible syllabus, and they hired me. 10 AM Spanish 101-1, here I come.
It’s the first day. I imply that they should drink before class because my partner in Spanish 101 last year told me that he shotguns before his math exams because one beer can “open your mind.” We review how to introduce yourself. I accidentally blow my own cover by saying “Me llamo Alexandra y tiene diecinueve años,” which is not only grammatically wrong, but factually wrong because I just turned veinti años and also wrong because I’m supposed to be at least like treinta años to have this job and I originally told them my name was Valeria. Whatever.
Long story short, I failed like 3 kids to prove a point and gave the rest A’s. I learned some Spanish by the hardo nerds correcting me all the time. They definitely knew that I was an absolute imposter, but most of my students were cool with it because I played Lil Yachty during office hours and I gave the cool ones extra credit. In the end, I got ass, an understanding of basic Spanish, and a few friends!