The Clitoral Myth

“Welcome everyone, have a seat, have a seat. This is Introduction to Women’s Studies, if you are here for any other class you are in the wrong room. I am,” the professor paused and picked up a piece of chalk. He turned his back to the class and wrote his name in big block letters across the chalkboard.

“Professor Manfred Splains,” he turned back and smiled at the class.

“Now, since today is the first day, I’d like to do a quick roll call. I’ll call your name, please just respond with a quick acknowledgement. Chris?”

“Here.”

“Jason?”

“Here.”

“Michael?”

“Here.”

“We have three Johns?”

“Here,” three Johns said in unison.

“Frank, Jeff, Matt, Sam, Pete, Pen… wait… Pen-E-lope. Penelope? Is that like a cantaloupe? I think there might be an error on the roster, you know what let’s just get class started.”

“I’m here,” said Penelope.

“Please take out your syllabus and your textbooks. Everyone should have a copy of Your Woman, Your Property by Dr. Alf Amale, How the Female Emotion Disrupts the Workplace by Adam Sapple, and The Holy Bible.”

“Excuse me, professor, I was wondering if there were any alternative texts written by women?” Penelope raised her hand to ask.

The professor paused, scrunched up his face, and then asked, “Did you guys hear something? Like a squeaking from the vents maybe? I’ll talk to engineering after class. Okay, let’s go over the syllabus. During week one we will start with women in the workplace.”

“When you say workplace, do you mean the kitchen?” asked one of the Johns.

“Yes, exactly, but also no, women are now allowed to be unpaid interns, administrative assistants, mothers, strippers, and all kinds of different jobs that would be paid equally to men if men were to have those kinds of jobs,” said Professor Splains.

“Excuse me, professor, I think…” Penelope started and was interrupted by the door opening.

A handsome blonde freshman opened the door to the classroom, “excuse me, is this Introduction to Women’s Studies?”

“You are in the right place! There’s one open seat left it appears,” said Professor Splains, pointing at the third desk on the fourth row. The seat where Penelope currently sat.

The freshman walked quickly toward Penelope. She stood from her desk and waved her hands in the air, “excuse me, this desk is not unoccupied.”

The freshman sat.

“I need this class to graduate,” Penelope mumbled as she gathered her things and moved to stand near a bookshelf in the back of the room.

“Week two and three of the class will focus on the female anatomy. You’ll learn about the female psyche and signs of emotional outbursts, the importance of male intervention during pregnancy, and why that bitch be bleeding again.”

“Hold on, excuse me? No. What did you say? I’m calling the dean’s office. This is not okay,” said Penelope as she pulled out her cell phone.

“Week four we’ll be watching the documentary The Clitoral Myth: Debunking the Existence of the Female Orgasm. I expect each of you to turn in a one page essay on what you believe the primary origin of the reason the myths began including a statement on why the male orgasm is far superior,” said Professor Splains.

“Hello, yes, I’d like to speak to Dean Manly. What’s it about? I’m in the Intro to Women Studies course and… yes, that’s the one. No! No it is not… please don’t call me little lady. Sir, this is some kind of sick joke, it has to be. Excuse me? What do you mean I won’t graduate if I don’t finish this class?”

“Week five is always my personal favorite. We talk about financial compensation in the workplace by taking a road trip to a company that is completely owned and operated by women. You’ll have the opportunity to have one on one face time with a working woman and discuss their financial concerns. Lola’s House of Luscious Ladies has been in operation for over two hundred years. It’s really a treat, you guys. Bring some singles that day.”

Penelope hung up her phone, she pinched her lips together and let out a muffled scream.

“Hello,” she said up and down the aisles, waving her hand in front of Chris then John then Michael then John. She walked up to Professor Splains and did some jumping jacks in front of him.

“Am I going crazy? Can any of you see me? Can you hear me?” She drew out her words as she screamed them across the classroom.

“Week six we discuss the word ‘no’ and what it means,” said Professor Splains.

“Is it like when a man says ‘no,’” asked Michael.

“Oh no. No, not at all the same. I mean, consider this scenario: you are at an event and you politely ask a woman if you can have sex with her. She says no. What questions have now come to your mind?” asked Professor Splains.

“What’s she wearing?” asked John.

“Does she have a boyfriend?” asked Michael.

“Oh, and would he consider sharing?” asked John.

“She must be a lesbian,” said John.

“All good and valid questions. Good job. This class basically teaches itself. We’ll go in depth with some roleplay and scenarios.”

Penelope stood on Professor Splains desk and jumped up and down, “Can anybody SEE me? Can anybody HEAR me?!”

“Now, the state mandates that this be an eight week course in order for you to get credit, but since there isn’t enough subject matter to go over week seven is when you will take your final exam. Week eight is what I like to call Independent Feminism; we meet at that cheap strip joint on Pennsylvania Avenue, you know the one, and we discuss our thoughts on feminism. First whiskey is on me. Class dismissed!”

Professor Splains slammed his fist down on the his desk as he excused the class which startled Penelope. She reeled back, pinwheeling her arms, and fell out the window.

“What was that?” asked John.

“It looked like someone jumped from the roof,” said Jason.

Professor Splains ran to the window and looked out while the classroom waited in silent anticipation. He turned and held a hand up to his heart, “don’t worry class. It was just a woman.”

~~~

Author's Note: Listen to women.

I genuinely feel icky writing this, but I genuinely feel icky when I see this stuff happen in real life.

But don't listen to me, listen to women.