Throwback Story – Mr. New Booty
This account takes place some time between March and May of 2010.
Walking toward to the teacher’s room, one of my wonderful co-teachers, Ms. H, asks if I can help her with her malfunctioning projector. She needs the projector to start her lesson and I go in to see what I can do (which obviously consists of just hitting it like a monkey a la Zoolander).
This class is a notorious one at the school, and one that I’m not too familiar with at all. It’s an 8th grade Latin seminar class consisting of a few too many students who think they run the school.
I stroll into the class and Ms. H is struggling with the power cord of the machine in the center of classroom. I don’t really know any of these students, and I squeeze through a few occupied desk-chairs to get to the projector.
A few girls instantly start giggling as I lift my leg to squeeze through one of the narrow rows. As I ask Ms. H when the machine last worked, I overhear a few of the girls blatantly say, through the chatter of a bored class, “Look at his a**!”, and “He’s got a big booty. Bah ha ha!”
At first, I ignored what I heard (as a teacher it’s always a tricky game determining which comments you should address, and which are better to let slide). I then tried to talk to Ms. H a few moments later, and I hear laughter behind me and two girls starting to sing, “Smack that! All on the floor, Smack that! Give me some more. Smack that! ‘Til you get sore. Smack that.. Oh Oh Oooh”.
Yes, I know, the now classic Akon featuring Eminem song has been sung by many adolescents in the past few years. It’s catchy, and fun, and I’ve definitely sung it. It could have been a sheer coincidence that the song these girls started to sing happened to be related to comments I’d heard about my rear end moments earlier. So I continued to pretend that this was the case. What else was there to do?
A few minutes later, the semi-quiet group of students began morphing into a more rowdy bunch of teens with nothing to do.
Through the waves of boisterous conversations, a more blatant song could be heard – this time, with more members of the chorus joining in. The lunchroom-esque decibel level gave way to a clear and crisp rendition of:
“Booty Booty Booty Booty, Rockin’ everywhere! Booty Booty Booty Booty, Rockin’ everywhere.Booty Booty Booty Booty, Rockin’ everywhere. Rockin; Everywhere, Rockin; Everywhere! I’m found you, Mr. New Booty!”…”
The Bubba Sparxx song, cleverly titled “Ms. New Booty”, which tells a wonderful tale of a man’s jubilation after finding the perfect bum he’d been pursuing, was being sung at me. It might surprise you, but this was actually a first in my life.
This song is another modern-day standard, but the teenage girls had changed the Ms. to Mr. and I was the only man in the room!
My first thought was that I’d never been more uncomfortable at school. I looked at Ms. H and wasn’t sure if she was hearing what I had. I really didn’t know how to react to this surprising and very funny act of harassment (either pronounced in the American or British accent).
The fact was that they were singing a song directed at my behind. I looked over at the group as they laughed and continued, but then I just pretended that I couldn’t hear. A few minutes later I just gave up on the projector and left the room not know what to do.
I proceeded to tell everyone I knew about the story, and how I awkward of a situation it was for me. I even think that it got around to the administration, and this event let people know to keep an eye out for this kind of behavior (imagine if these were dude-students talking about a female teacher).
It all ended peacefully, and this was by far the best harassment song-story I have in my arsenal. But then again, you never know what could happen tomorrow.