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April 23, 2004

It's practically champagne

I went to my history professor's office hours yesterday after class. He holds his Thursday office hours in the pub on campus, but I knew this (loss of faculties around faculty, never good) would not be an issue for me since I so recently vowed to only drink champagne and the pub is a beer joint.

However, he turned out to be the kind of drinker who does not want to drink alone. More importantly, he is the kind of drinker who wants to buy for the people he drinks with. Free beer, I thought. It's practically champagne. He headed to the bar to fill my order and I nervously asked the other student sitting with us, "Won't he get fired for this?" I imagined a department head, short and bald like George Jetson's boss, snorting up to the table at full steam, eyeing my miniskirt sideways, catching sight of the professor clutching a pint for me and 32oz for himself, and exploding in a rage bomb all over my backpack. But apparently he only gets fired if I press sexual harassment charges, and why would I complain about my new supply of free beer? Unless my new beer supply flashes me or something.

So we drank some more (pint for me, 32oz for him). Shoes, ships, sealing wax. The other student left. The professor bought another round (pint for me, 32oz for him). Cabbages and kings. Perhaps this happens all the time, this drinking and becoming fairly drunk with professors, and no one ever told me? Or perhaps you are thinking, "This sounds startlingly inappropriate." I, too, was thinking that; I mean, at first. Later on, my brain turned to a warm golden syrup and mostly I was thinking, "Mm. Beer."

Generally when a story begins with a student in a miniskirt and a professor buying her beer, it ends predictably, but in this case (after I managed to stay drunk in the pub while the rest of my 7:00-10:00 class was discussing Keats), we just drank a lot of water (pint for me, 32oz for him) and I decorously, slightly sloshing, drove him home.

Today I feel pretty good, except for the nausea and headache and nagging feeling that I have not behaved quite as one ought to behave with one's professor. It's clear to me that our relationship has progressed to a new friendshippy level, and to symbolize this I've begun addressing him by his first name. I snuck it in a few times last night but I'm not sure he was noticing much of anything at that point, so the first real test will come in class on Tuesday when I say, "Well, [insert first name here], when you were piss-drunk on Thursday you were saying that..." etc. I anticipate that this inappropriate familiarity, coming on the heels of my ridiculously short skirt and inability to hold my alcohol, will only add to his already immense respect for me.

Posted by didofoot at April 23, 2004 08:59 AM

Comments

i will avoid the entire story of this post and instead focus on the jetson's. which is ALSO now out on dvd. amazing how everything is out on dvd nowadays. simply amazing.

though i am tempted to watch it, i can't remember it actually being any good. i mean...it wasn't that good, was it? not brilliantly witty good anyway?

Posted by: michele at April 23, 2004 09:26 AM

the jetsons is all about the horrified fascination you feel when the characters of the future behave like the characters from the flintstones, with gender roles firmly etched in stone. not unlike reading stranger in a strange land.

Posted by: didofoot at April 23, 2004 10:07 AM

That's an interesting story. I'm sure your professor is a good guy, but be careful. for reals. I got myself into a nice jam just that way -
- and you, no doubt, look far more alluring in a miniskirt than I.

Posted by: kati at April 23, 2004 10:58 AM

not to worry, he is a decent man. a man of decency. and i think i could take him in a fight. (my strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure.)

Posted by: didofoot at April 23, 2004 10:59 AM

Fair enough.
Indeed.

Posted by: kati at April 23, 2004 11:03 AM

What, you want *male* robots to be doing our cleaning in the future? You need to grok yourself before you wreck yourself.

Posted by: sean at April 23, 2004 11:29 AM

waiting is, sean. waiting for your smackdown is. i can take you in a fight too.

Posted by: didofoot at April 23, 2004 11:42 AM

i'll refrain from telling the "what was the name of the black kid in the jetsons?" joke.

i like the rationalization that free beer is the equivalent of champagne. does that mean that a free lapdance is practically sex? that a free donut is practically cheesecake? i hate cheesecake.

Posted by: holohan at April 23, 2004 12:49 PM

it really depends. is the doughnut cherry flavored?

Posted by: didofoot at April 23, 2004 01:01 PM

Speaking of Jetsons, what's up with Kati Vol stealing my intellectual property!

Fair enough.
Indeed.
phfaahh.

-g

Posted by: gene at April 24, 2004 02:32 AM

I thought about your comment, Gene, and concluded, "When you're right, you're right, and you are right."

At least she's not vulturing her housemate's expressions, and preceding everything with "Right on".

Posted by: sean at April 24, 2004 03:46 AM

wait, is "phfaah" also yours?

Posted by: didofoot at April 24, 2004 09:04 AM

Hey man, don't be sore.
You leave the country, you forfeit any and all intellectual property rights.
Thems the rules. I didn't make 'em up, but I live by 'em.
You'll be lucky if your bike and loft bed haven't been impounded by the time you get back.

Posted by: kati at April 24, 2004 10:03 AM

The couch will probably still be there, but it will definitely smell a little bit like Bert. Peace be with you.

Posted by: sean at April 24, 2004 12:21 PM

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