Starting out most prosperous, a teaching job at the famous Sorbonne, financial law, a subject becoming all to easy for me.
Loosing it all in just three consecutive occasions.
Opening speech of the academic year, never done before, an assistant, me, giving a exposé on the stock-market deregulations. Sure to impress, awaiting the erudite attendees to be seated, sipping away on a coffee, biting, tasting the sacrifice roll-like cardboard cup-side desiccating my throat even more."Yes, I would love another coffee," and, "yes, I would love another coffee." stammering on every syllable pronounced upholding the leaderships-pose, burnishing control.
Well, almost shitting my pants, literally. Clenching my rectum muscle, barely made it to the toilet. Hopefully nobody comes in after me! Maybe, another piss, just in case.
"Sixty seconds," clamored a high-pinched electronic speaker voice sending a shiver all along up my spine, fulminating. Did I just caught my prick with my zipper.
The dean, called me the next day in his chambers, still chuckling. "Never seen before, sunny, never seen before, and I've been around a long time, now. Did the emeritus professor stitch you penis beautifully? Now bursting out in laughter.
Yes, I made it to the stage, uttering one word, "hello", then collapsing in a puddle of blood sipping out of my pants. "What are the changes, the zipper hooked a vain," Francine, oncology professor, said, urging everybody to calm down while tying of the wound, exposing my genitals to the most prominent attendees.