“I honestly think you’re too weak to handle it,” She said with a wry smile. She really shouldn’t have said that, because now I became determent. We talked and I pleaded for hours and She finally agreed to give me private lessons. I had to pay a rather hefty sum of money as a security deposit. “I won’t charge you anything for the lessons,” She explained, “but I hate quitters. In that case the deposit is mine. School’s over when I say it’s over, do I make Myself clear?” I’d known Ingrid since diapers, but I’d never seen Her like this. But worse was to follow. Because as it turned out She was not your everyday teacher, She was a strict disciplinarian. I got much more than I’d bargained for, but my tortured ass and I hang in there. Too stubborn, or too scared perhaps, to walk away. The lessons continued throughout the summer and ended in October. So She’s no longer my teacher. But She’ll always be my Disciplinarian.