The Fantastic Mr. Flank

-- I've been writing a lot for other people lately, but this is one is all for me. I know it'll be part of a larger piece, but I'm just not sure when that will be written. In the meantime, enjoy this little snippet. Here's hoping I get working on the bigger piece sometime soon. --

“The Fantastic Mr. Flank”

Madame Principal
Though I can understand your worry
I must insist that my methods
Abstract though they may be
Are entirely for the benefit
Of the girls

I was not trying to encourage
Underage drinking
However
I find it absolutely ridiculous
To try to discourage underage drinking

The girls drink
It’s no secret
I was just teaching them
How to drink
With class

You should have seen them
With their little martini glasses
Giggling and making conversation
Not a bit sloppy
Not a one of them
I don’t see how you could avoid being proud

The flirtation tips were also necessary
Margot simply could not talk to boys
It was pitiful to watch
Surely you’ve seen her with the Mackenzie boy
It’s like watching one of those cartoon characters
With the tongue hanging all the way down to the floor
And the eyes bugging out

Now she’s confident
Charismatic
Coy, even
Why she got laughter out of him
And his phone number
That’s something even I had a hard time managing
When I was her age

Of course
I had other obstacles
I’m sure that goes without saying

Petra, unlike Margot, was too direct
It’s no secret that she’s known around school
As Pants Down Petra

Don’t blush, Madame Principal
You should know these things
You’re supposed to be the leader
Of this fine academy

Petra is now much more subtle
I explained to her the advantages
Of waiting until at least date three
Before disrobing your conquest

Again, Madame
It is ludicrous to assume
That I could convince her
To abstain completely
From fornication

I had to negotiate like a fiend
To get her to wait until date three
And that was only after I promised
That I’d teach her how they make Cosmos

They’re a drink
In case you didn’t know
Very fashionable

As for the dancing
Lydia is ghastly at any kind of movement
I don’t have to tell you
You were present at the spring recital
The poor thing hops around
Like a wounded gazelle
Trying to crawl behind the nearest tree
So the lion cubs won’t get at her

It simply wouldn’t do

These girls go into the city
Every Saturday night
And every night
Lydia goes back to her room
Crying so loudly
All the other girls
Throw pillows at her head

And all because
When she goes to nightclubs
The boys avoid her
Like she’s wearing
Bad aftershave

What’s that?

They tell you they go where?
To the theater?

Madame Principal
Surely you know
That the theater gets out
A little earlier
Than two in the morning

I don’t know what
All-night marathons
Of Lerner and Loewe
You attended in your day
But things are a little more
Subdued nowadays

Oh no!
Please don’t get the girls in trouble
I’m speaking to you purely in confidence
They’re not doing anything wrong
Except for the bad dancing
The sluttish behavior
And the excessive drinking

But that’s all been corrected!

Lydia can dance up a storm now
I spent everyday after school last week
Teaching her all the best steps

At first
She stepped on my toes
So many times
I contemplated wearing steel tips
But after awhile
She was a regular Jennifer Grey!

…Dirty Dancing?

WHAT?!

Madame Principal
I must see your DVD collection
God only knows
How many cinematic gems
Are not accounted for
On those dusty shelves

. . . . .

But Madame
These girls are becoming
Fine young ladies

We’re not raising nuns here
Our goal is not to create
Little Marias to sing into the mountains!

I’m trying to teach the girls
About real world situations
The right make-up to wear
The right shoes to spend over a hundred dollars on
How to hit on your boss just enough to get the promotion
Without actually having to—

Well
Clearly Madame
That last one is a rule
You are already familiar with

Feminism?

Of course I’m a feminist!

But I’m not going to teach these girls
How to do things like men would do
To put some false idea into their heads
That they’re equal to men
They’re not!
They’re better!

They’re smarter
They’re funnier
They’re more interesting

Dear God
Have you heard Elliot Goldstein
Tell the story of his bar mitzvah?
It’s like listening to a cocker spaniel whelp

I want to tell them what the boys know
But I want to teach them how to rule the world
As women

Just because they’re smart
Doesn’t mean they can’t act like girls
Or enjoy the things girls enjoy

I may not be Miss Jean Brodie, Madame
And this may not be the Dead Poets Society
That I’m commandeering
But so help me
These girls will turn out better
And braver
And more awe-inspiring
Than any girls this academy has produced

And if you disagree with my methods
Take it up with my father
He’s the one who donates your salary times ten
To this fine institution every year
And I’m sure he’d be happy to take that check somewhere else
If his son were to be unceremoniously dismissed

Good day, Madame Principal
And by the way
Faux oak paneling
Does this office
No favors