Groping alert!!

I answered a recorded call urgently “Warning! This is a University of Arkansas alert ....” I rushed the receiver to my husband, a prof in that institution,  who was already reading an electrornic APB of the ominous event:  A female student had been “groped.”

No one was dead or injured. A man had tricked a girl into helping him with his stalled car ‘cause he had to go home to his ailing dog. A good one!

To the student, I would say: Have you ever heard about the knee to the groin or fingers poked into the eyes or palm thrust up the nose moves? No? What kind of parents do you have, girl!

To the University:  The vehemence of your warning should be reserved for an intramural ISIS attack. The matter is between the gropee and the police.  Since when have institutions of higher learning become nannies to their customers – and isn’t the overriding purpose of education to achieve self-sufficiency instead of running to Mommy in the face of adversity?

Having been groped myself not a few times always to the detriment of the groper, I can’t help but think that this was a non-event. Especially while at Stalags Tyson, Cargill, Das Butcher Haus, and other area death camps,  the terror, the killing, the senseless waste of life goes unabated to the tune of hundreds of sentient beings per second.

With nary a notice on the part of those now shaken and outraged because a pair of boobies were improperly touched.