Don't Stand So Close To Me

Young teacher, the subject
Of schoolgirl fantasy
She wants him so badly
Knows what she wants to be


Inside her there's longing
This girl's an open page
Book marking - she's so close now
This girl is half his age

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

Her friends are so jealous
You know how bad girls get
Sometimes it's not so easy
To be the teacher's pet

Temptation, frustration
So bad it makes him cry
Wet bus stop, she's waiting
His car is warm and dry

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

Loose talk in the classroom
To hurt they try and try
Strong words in the staffroom
The accusations fly

It's no use, he sees her
He starts to shake and cough
Just like the old man in
That book by Nabokov

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me
Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

Don't stand, don't stand so
Don't stand so close to me

Now this is not too hard to figure out. I don't know any school girl that didn't have a crush on at least one of her teachers, me included. I had (most memorably) a teacher named Mr. Markey. That poor man, he knew I had a crush on him in the worst way. I'm sure in some ways it was quite amusing, but to a 12 or 13-year-old girl this is love. And with it comes the highs and lows and heartbreak of love. I knew he was single. But I knew, somewhere deep down inside, that not only was he not interested in a barely pubescent girl, but he was not going to throw away anything for a completely illicit thing. Maybe I didn't know it in so many words, but I knew it. He was my 7th grade science teacher. Who better for me to have a crush on? He was pretty tough, but I loved his class and all that he had to teach us. I took huge copious notes in his classes. He taught us about blood typing and flowers and how the genetics worked. It was delightful. And he looked like a young Clint Eastwood to me.

It is funny to think of this now. I went to Wallington years later and met Mr. Markey - Mr. John Markey, now that I think of it, at the grade school I went to. He went on to become the principal. How funny. He remembered me. I doubt any of the teachers I had for science would forget me, as I always loved beyond all imagining science. They all thought that maybe I would go on to be in a science-related field. I certainly did. Unfortunately, while I love science, I do not - most emphatically not - love math. I have little liking and no aptitude for it. Ironic that I do payroll, isn't it? And yet, if I did not, how I would have missed the greatest career opportunity of my life.

Thank you, Mr. Markey!

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