Happy Hour With Hurley
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Nothing’s worse than throwing back a few cocktails, looking around, and seeing all your professors in one room.
Worse, is realizing you’re not dreaming. This is real life. This is an inauguration ball. But, when Katy Perry was performed by the theatre kids at the same time the university president was inaugurated, anything can happen, right?
When I was in elementary school, I was one of the kids who thought teachers lived in the school closet, came out from eight to four to teach and then went back into the closet until the next day. It wasn’t until high school that I realized that teachers, like professors, are real people too.
As students here, we get to catch a glimpse of these secret lives more than at other schools, I think. Our professors know our names. They wonder why we weren’t in class, because they notice when we aren’t there. And they like to party too, especially when glitter-covered Lindt truffles are involved.
One of my favorite “you know you go to UMW when…” moments on the Facebook group years ago was that UMW students drink with their professors, who are also the designated drivers. As a freshman, I thought that surely this was an urban legend.
It’s not.
Should we, as students, care whether our professors know how much we drink on any given weekend? If they’re Facebook friends(like most are these days), they probably have a good idea of that anyway. But what is the risk of letting loose with faculty around?
Some might argue that it could hurt your reputation in class. Valid point, especially if you are consistently late to class at noon or never remember to do your homework or reading. On the flip side though, if you are consistent with getting work done, hanging out with professors outside of class can help them get to know you better, and vice versa.
Really, the trick is trying to act like you’re not drunk. Then, you have no problems, right? No one will know you’re drunk if you don’t tell them. And pretending like you aren’t drunk when you are is really easy, especially after all the administrators have gone home and the band starts playing Cee Lo Green.
The drunk girl dance/eighth grade boy dance might seem like you have a lot of rhythm at the time, but trust me, you probably don’t. You probably just look like a dancing hobbit in the Anderson Center. Whatever, so does everybody else. After four hours of being surrounded by open bars, nobody has rhythm.
So, should Monday morning in class be awkward? No. Maybe they won’t remember how much you embarrassed yourself, either.
