5 Things That Happen When You Go Out As a Teacher
By Katie Ray
1. You’ll remember that a time beyond 10:00PM actually exists and – what is this? – people actually stay out past it.
Ah yes, I remember the wee hours of the night from those long-forgotten college years. Look there are people here! With energy! And heels. LOL, those people are morons. But okay, maybe the world doesn’t shut down with the sun after all. The sad thing is I’m only 24. But really. Sleep > socializing. Because what could be more fun than a good night’s rest? Nothing, that’s what.
2. The Stages of Drunkenness.
Maybe it’s just me, but working in a high school has me on the lookout at all times for student run-ins. To be fair though, I did see a kid with a Big Ass Beer in his hand on Bourbon Street last year. We quickly and wordlessly agreed to never speak of that interaction. Last time my friends dragged me out and got some whiskey in me, I quickly progressed through the following stages:
Paranoia. “Oh God, everyone at this 21+ bar is a teenager, I just know it. Wait. Does that kid go my high school? He does. I’m sure of it.” “Oh no, this guy that I have just done my weird, awkward flirty thing with probably is an 11th grader. Maybe I should ask. Should I ask? No, no need to. Everyone here is an infant.”
Rebellion. “So what if there are kids here that go to my school? I’m an adult, dammit! They’re children! They’re the ones in the wrong here, not me. Plus, who cares what they think? NOT ME, THAT’S WHO.”
Regression back to paranoia. “Oh, but SnapChat. And Instagram. What if my dance moves and awkward winking ends up all over the kids’ feeds? Although glorious, those are not for young eyes.”
Indifference. “OH WELL! I’m having too much fun (and also suffering from more sleep deprivation than usual at this point in the night) to care about anyone I see. I deserve to be happy! Also, TEQUILA? Hooraaaaaay! (this is often a short-lived sentiment)”
3. The Pick Up Attempts When Guys Find Out What You Do.
Here are a few gems that I’ve heard over the past few months when I start talking to a guy downtown or at a bar and they find out I teach high schoolers.
Oh. I’m sorry. You’re sorry? Sorry that I’m poor? Sorry that I’m perpetually ignored and talked over all day long? *fair points, sir* But don’t be sorry. I chose this path that you clearly cannot comprehend. I’m sorry that I have to be going now. Actually, #sorrynotsorry.
Wow! I bet your students want to *@$% you! Um, did you just imply that 14-year-olds want to have intercourse with me and expect me to take that as a compliment? No, my friend, that is grounds for a scowl and possibly some time in jail for you. Begone, Satan.
Man, you must be a saint! Can I buy you a drink? Damn straight. These are the best kind of guys.
4. The Wardrobe Struggle.
Shoes with heels? Pfft. Sleeveless shirts? Huh? Colors in the rival school’s spirit realm? OkayyeahrightsowhatifIdolookspectacularinred? I wish I was kidding when I tell you that my friends have, on multiple occasions, rolled their eyes and told me that cardigans are not for going out. “But what if it’s chilly? This way I don’t have to wear a coat or worry about showing too much skin! It’ll make me look more put together.” *Dead stare and additional eye roll* “Guys, do you think people will think this dry erase marker all up and down my arm is a really badass tattoo? No? You sure?” What about lanyards? Also no? Oh…okay. Just checking.
5. Breaking Into Teacher Mode to Get Your Crew Home.
I have snapped, pointed, and repeated the plan to get home many times – complete with objectives, materials needed, direct instructions, and possibly a state standard or two for good measure. You think pushing your way through a packed bar to close out your tab is tricky? Try being 5’2” and making it to the bathroom and back during passing periods with 500 teenagers in the hall. Convincing a drunk friend to get into the damn cab is a challenge? Try corralling 33 fourteen-year-olds enough to write an essay, act out a Shakespeare scene, and silently read a novel at the end of the day on a Friday. Teacher voice, my friends. I AM A SORCERER.