Sunday, October 5, 2014

Why Proffies Should Never Leave the House. Fullerton Frank Goes to the Fair.

Jersey and Jilly are two fine students in my 9:00 am class. They are polite and well-mannered, inquisitive, kind, and hard-working.

On Saturday, my wife and I took a couple of hours to visit our city's arts & crafts fair, a sprawling series of buildings and open areas filled with all manner of cool items. Oh, and beer tents.

As we crossed the threshold of one area, we passed through one of the tents and had to sorta weave around a large group of younger people at the first tables. Just as we were about to extricate ourselves from the crowd, one girl stood up sharply, began to stagger back toward us, and slammed into us.

It was Jilly. She was hammered.

At first she didn't seem to recognize me (or the planet earth). Then a stream of burbling words came out of her: "OH MY GOD PROFESSOR FRANK YOU COME TO THE FAIR TOO JERSEY IS OVER THERE SHE'S WITH HER EXBOYFRIEND THEY DROVE ME WE DON'T HAVE CLASS TODAY DO WE OH MY GOD PROFESSOR FRANK DID YOU COME TO THE FAIR TODAY TOO YOU SHOULD TOTALLY HANG OUT WITH US LATER WE'RE GOING TO SEE MY BOYFRIEND'S BAND PLAY AND IT WOULD BE SO MUCH FUN IF YOU CAME TOO LET ME GET JERSEY BECAUSE SHE WON'T BELIEVE THAT YOU'RE HERE BECAUSE WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT YOU..."

My wife gently lead me away and I tried to sneak a work of goodbye in.

As we got away from Jilly I saw Jersey for the first time. She was sitting in a young man's lap, facing him, buckling the cheap, plastic chair, but going after his wisdom teeth with the tip of her tongue.

We had our fun at the fair and only saw the girls again when we were walking through the parking lot. Jersey was on her hands and knees behind a small pickup, and Jilly was sitting on the tailgate. When we passed by, Jilly saw me and smiled: "HEY PROFESSOR FRANK DO YOU COME TO THE FAIR OH MY GOD LOOK JERSEY IT'S PROFESSOR FRANK AND HIS WIFE IS WITH HIM PROFESSOR FRANK WERE YOU HERE ALL DAY OH MY GOD WE'LL SEE YOU IN CLASS TOMORROW!!!!"

10 comments:

  1. I teach in the Midwest. Falling down drunk students is old hat. Still, I love the wisdom teeth line. You brought their casual, public debauchery to life!

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  2. I don't suppose Reg ever had a drink in college, or Frank either.

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    1. Frank never had a drink in college, or Reg never had Frank in college?

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  3. That was me Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. In grad school that was me Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, and sometimes Monday nights too. I graduated with first-class honours, then got a PhD, a national-level postdoc scholarship, and eventually tenure as a prof. Being an excellent student and getting fall-down drunk are not mutually exclusive activities - sometimes the stress of maintaining the former facilitates the latter.

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  4. The fact that I was frequently drunk in college doesn't necessarily mean that I won't be embarrassed and feel awkward if I run into drunk students or, worse, students making out. I licked a few wisdom teeth in my day, too.

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    1. Yah. I contributed my share to the debauchery index, too, just not in public.

      Boundaries, people!

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  5. Who gets drunk to go to a craft fair, though? Aren't they worried about impulse-purchasing? One only has space for so many crocheted toilet paper dolls . . .

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    1. Small "stand-alone" cities (i.e. not part of a larger metro area) tend to have their traditional events that act as The Debauchery Event of the Season; one place I visited had a weekend where you went from ethnic club to ethnic club (e.g. Budapest Hall, The Polish Veterans Club, The Portuguese Assoc, The Italian Friendship Society, etc.) via city bus shuttles; it was the public-drinking highlight of the fall!

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  6. Now you know why I never go to places like Hooters. Aside from it being a matter of principle, the chance is too great that one of the staff will be a student. "Well, well, PROFESSOR Frankenstien, FANCY MEETING YOU HERE..."

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    1. I've heard through grapevines that through the years, more than one of my program's students were employed at venues that are somewhat like Hooters, but without the hot wings, and with more expensive watered-down drinks and more roof-supporting columns. Now I try to avoid even driving past those places, as I had sometimes done to bypass an accident on the cross-town interstate.

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