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Authors: Jesse Eisenberg

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BOOK: Bream Gives Me Hiccups
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12
. But even though they were nice, it was a little disgusting watching them eat. I don't know if you've ever been to a farm, Miss Rita, where you can watch pigs eat from a trough and then roll around in their own shit, but that's what it looked like watching The Slutnicks go at their spaghetti Bolognese.

13
. When I told my mother that I hated school, she said, “For what we're paying to send you there, you better start liking it.” And I was like, “Fuck off, Mom.”

14
. Tiramisu and cannolis
for
the table
.

15
. To which I said, “Fashion,” cause I never thought about it before and I got nervous and I thought that sounded good.

16
. But I just said I have a “mentor” from high school. And they said, “She sounds really supportive.” Not bad, huh?

17
. Fettuccini Alfredo mixed with budget marinara.

18
. She actually called me Harp. I never had a nickname before, and if you'd asked me a week ago if I wanted one, I would have thought it was so stupid, but I actually
liked
Harp.

19
. I know that sounds weird or like illogical, like, “How would someone
else
eating ramen make
me
happy?” But I actually did feel like it would make me happy to know that Slutnick was happy. Strange.

20
. Which meant no.

21
. Is that racist? I'm not sure. She really did look like that.

22
. It was so weird, you could see the outline of the crocodile inside the snake's body!

23
. Only you and SN have permission to call me that. ;)

November 7

Dear Miss Rita,

I wasn't going to write to you because I thought I'd leave you alone, but something absolutely horrifying happened to me and I don't know whether I should go to the police or buy a gun or what. So far, I haven't told anyone about it,
1
but keeping it inside is no longer a possibility.

I think I may have been sexually assaulted by a teacher.
2

I'll start at the beginning so you know how this developed.

I'm taking an Intro to Anthro class, which is basically about different cultures around the world and why they're weird.
3
My professor is a young guy who so desperately wants to be like the “cool” professor. He dresses in “cool” flannel shirts and “cool” jeans and has long hair down to his shoulders. I guess he's maybe a tiny bit attractive but it's so fucking annoying how all the girls in class basically orgasm when he calls on them.
4

His name is Mr. Garrett, but let's call him Mr. Doe for the purposes of this letter, in case there's a court case or a lawsuit or whatever.

The last three classes were about something called Female Genital Mutilation, which is the most disgusting thing I've ever heard about in my life.
5
It is where these evil African men cut the vaginas off poor African women. The men do it for the most disgusting, selfish reasons: because it feels better for their huge dumb penises when they stick them in the poor women's tiny, mutilated vagina holes.

Men are so fucking terrifying, Miss Rita. Everything about them is so disgusting and scary! And after my “encounter” with Mr. Doe, I just want to cut off every man's dumb stupid penis and stick it in his dumb eye socket!
6

And what's so fucked up about this whole thing is that Mr. Doe actually made us write a paper about why Female Genital Mutilation is a
good
thing.
7
We were supposed to “incorporate” what we've learned about other cultures and their specific customs to explain why cutting a woman's vagina is a
good
thing. I could not even believe it.

When he asked if we had any questions, I raised my hand and Sarah Steinwhore raised her hand. I was going to ask how we could possibly write a paper
supporting
that evil bullshit,
but Mr. Doe called on Steinwhore instead of me. And the fucking kiss-ass asked, “Is there a length to the paper or can we write as much as we want?”
8

And Mr. Doe said, “Sure, Sarah, you can go as long as you feel you need to make your point.”

So I went back to my dorm to start working on this paper, which I didn't think I should write in the first place.

And Slutnick was in the room, reading
Beowulf
. And she and I are getting along really well now because she's being less of a bitch and I'm being more “open-minded.”
9

So I told SN that I have to write this paper about why cutting off an African woman's vagina is a good thing and she was horrified. And she said she was just reading about Beowulf killing Grendel's mother after she tried to revenge her son's death. Beowulf killed the
mother
of his enemy! Which is so unbelievably typical. And I realized that
all
men throughout history—Beowulf, African guys, Mr. Doe—
all men
are fucking evil pricks.

And I felt really conflicted. Because I had to write this paper for class, but I also knew that it was the wrong thing to do. So I did a little “soul search,” which you taught me about in junior year.

And that's when I realized I could not write this paper.

So I sat down at my computer and started writing what I thought I
should
write instead. It was this:
10

Throughout the various countries of Africa, a widespread problem is occurring. It is called Female Genital Mutilation. Female genital mutilation (FGM), also known as female genital cutting and female circumcision, is defined by the World Health Organization (WHO) as “all procedures that involve partial or total removal of the external female genitalia or other injury to the female genital organs for non-medical reasons” (Wikipedia).

I was asked by my Intro to Anthro teacher, Mr. Garrett, to write a paper on why this is a good thing.

But I can't.

Because it's not.

A good thing.

FGM is a disgusting practice that men do to women because they want their vaginas to be smaller because it feels better on their penises when they have sex. If anyone thinks this is a good thing, they are disgustingly wrong.

Men have controlled everything in the world for centuries now, be it banking, sports, or the automobile industry. And it's time for that to change. They think because they have penises or are taller than women, they can control them.

FGM has to stop right now and the men who do it
should have to have
their
penises cut to see how much
they
like it. If I could, I would fly to Africa to cut off all the men's penises.
11
And I would put all the African penises in a huge blender and make all the men watch as their penises blended together in a bloody penis shake. And then I would make them drink the penis shake until they puked, then I'd probably have them eat the penis shake puke.
12

But since I can't go to Africa because of the diseases, I will instead start here in St. Louis, cutting off the penises of all the men who abuse their wives. And all the rapists and bartenders who bother women all the time. I'll cut their penises off too.

And, actually, while I'm at it, Mr. Garrett? I'll cut your penis off too. I see how you look at some of the girls in class. You're using your power of authority to flirt, I see that. And the fact that you're asking us to write this paper is proof that you support the evil African Empire men who want to cut off women's vaginas for their own evil pleasure.

Well, guess what, men? And guess what, Mr. Garrett? Your time is up!

That was my paper. I read it to Slutnick and she thought it was amazing. She literally was like, “Harper, that's the most shocking thing I've ever heard.”

So, the next morning, I put the paper in Mr. Doe's mailbox.

We didn't have anthro class till Tuesday, so I had the whole weekend and Monday to think about what Mr. Doe would think when he read it. And the more I thought about it, the more excited I got. I felt more and more confident that what I wrote was not only really smart, but actually a good thing for the world.
13

On Tuesday, I went to class as usual but I had a nervous excitement in my belly, like when you're waiting to see who's going to get kicked off
American Idol
. And Mr. Doe came in like nothing was wrong. I was wondering if he'd even read the papers. Luckily Steinwhore raised her hand and asked, “Will we be getting our papers back today?”
14

And Mr. Doe said, “Yes, I've read and graded them all and will return them at the end of class. By the way, very good job all of you.”

I was so confused. How could he have read and graded them and not said anything about mine?

Anyway, he didn't even talk about Female Genital Mutilation once during class. Instead, he started a new lesson about
Nanook of the North
, some dumb movie about an Eskimo who lied about getting in a boat.

And when class was ending, Mr. Doe said, “Before I forget, I have your papers. Some really interesting work this week, you guys.”

Then he silently handed out the papers, and when he got to me, he just casually put it on my desk as though I hadn't written an essay about cutting off his penis. I looked at the first page, there were no comments. And I flipped to the back, where there was a small note that said, “See me after class. — Mr. G.”

I didn't know what to expect. I thought he might be a little mad about the Penis Shake line, but otherwise, I thought I wrote a really thoughtful essay.

After everyone left the room, I stayed at my desk.

Mr. Doe came up and sat in the desk next to mine. My heart was beating so quick. I didn't know if he was going to congratulate me or yell at me or what.

He started, “So, I read your paper, Harper.”

I didn't say anything. He kept talking:

“I understand that you feel very strongly about this issue. It's clear that it raised a lot of feelings for you, which is a good thing. And I'm glad you expressed them. I thought some of your language was a little strong,
15
but I was happy to see how passionate you were about the subject.”

“So do I get an A?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, I'm going to have to give you an incomplete.”

“Why?”

Then he said, “Because you didn't do the assignment, Harper.” Then he started saying some bullshit about how, even though I don't support FGM, I was asked to “use anthropological arguments to make a theoretical case for it.”

But I started to get really pissed off. Because I knew what this was about. This was about him not liking me. It's why he didn't call on me in class. It's why he never made eye contact with me. It's why he fucking
gushed
over Steinwhore and some of the other bitchy shit-nosers in class.

I didn't want him to get away with giving me an incomplete just because he didn't like me. So I asked him, “Why don't you ever call on me in class?”

And he said, “You're right to think that I call on you less frequently than some of the other students. But that's because you often don't contribute positively to conversations, Harper.
16
You like to yell about your opinion instead of contributing to a thoughtful dialogue.”

But I knew that was bullshit, so I told him, “I think you don't call on me because you don't think I'm pretty.”

And he looked kind of shocked. He said, “What?”

So I looked at him right in the eye
17
and asked him, “Mr. Doe, do you think I'm pretty?”

And you know what he said? “I think you're a very lovely young lady, but you need to learn how to control your impulses, Harper.”

I fucking knew it.
A lovely lady!
Suddenly it all made sense to me.

Mr. Doe had a crush on me. That's why he never made eye contact with me and why he was always flirting with Sarah Stein. It was because he thought Sarah Stein was an unattractive whore
18
and thought
I
was the hot one. I fucking knew it!

After we spoke, he thanked me for staying late and asked me to consider rewriting the paper. Then he got kind of awkward and said, “Have a good week, Harper.”

I walked home kind of confused. I had all these strange thoughts circulating around inside my head.

I mean, I actually did think Mr. Doe was hot. He seemed so smart and sure about himself and I thought it was hot. He knew about so many things and had so much energy and seemed so nice and probably gentle and caring. He probably would never ask anyone to cut their vaginas and he would probably be so sweet and soft and nothing like the African guys. I thought about maybe having sex with him
19
to lose my virginity. Because he'd probably know how to do it really good since he knows about everything and every culture.

And I know this sounds crazy, but then I started thinking that maybe I would accidentally get pregnant with his baby and then he'd be stuck with me forever, but in a good way, like we'd have to get married. And then we could fuck all we want because we'd be married. And after I get menopause and can't have babies anymore, we would fuck even more because there'd be no chance of getting pregnant or AIDS. And we would be married and have a nice family and he would teach me about the world and we'd die together and share the same coffin because it would be more romantic that way.
20

And when I got home, I told Slutnick about my amazing meeting with Mr. Doe. But Slutnick didn't think it was amazing at all. She was shocked when I told her that he called me a “lovely lady.”

She said, “Harper, don't you think that's kind of strange?”

And I said, “No, it was really nice.” And then I told Slutnick how I was thinking about fucking him and that I thought he might want to because he had a huge crush on me. And SN was even more shocked.

She said, “Harper, I think you have to report this guy. I think this counts as harassment.”

I told Slutnick that she was probably just jealous. But Slutnick said that it's really important to report any kind of “over-the-line” behavior from teachers.

Suddenly, I got so embarrassed. What if Mr. Doe really
did
step over the line? What if I really
was
victim of sexual harassment?
21

Miss Rita!

And then I got super embarrassed. And Slutnick said, “Are you okay, Harper? Your face is totally flushed.”

And she was right. I felt my cheeks and they were burning. And my ears were hot, which is something that happens when I get super nervous.

I don't know what to do, Miss Rita. I feel so dirty right now. What if Slutnick is right and I
was
sexually harassed? What should I do? What if I report Mr. Doe and he gets arrested and goes to jail and I lose my chance to marry him and have his babies and lose my virginity for the first time? I feel like I might be in love with my abuser, which is what happens in these kinds of relationships.
22

I feel all these weird feelings at the same time and I don't know how to think about anything right now!

Please help me!

Harper Jablonski

BOOK: Bream Gives Me Hiccups
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