10- Teachers' Night Out

I decided to take up the Fun Committee’s invitation to a Teacher’s Night Out. I figured I should treat myself to a little celebration for surviving two full weeks as a classroom teacher. The past ten days have been a whirlwind of excitement, confusion, and frustration. I am so happy to have this job, I really do love it. Each day I feel more and more confident.
Teacher’s Night Out started out exactly as it would seem; a bunch of women and a handful of men grouped together to chit chat about… work. Pretty boring. We were told to bring our significant others, so a few husbands and boyfriends dutifully showed up. I arrived late, with the intention of having a single glass of wine and then returning home. By the time I got there, our party had taken over two large tables on the bar’s back porch.
I learned a lot about personality just by seeing my coworkers in their casual dress. Esther was there in her usual embroidered sweater and matching pants. Several of the younger teachers were dressed in their clubbing outfits- tight tops and short skirts. A few teachers wore their expensive Ann Taylor suits, adorned with manicured fingernails and banker husbands. Caroline and her husband, Mark, were clad, from head to toe, in their favorite college football team’s colors. I remained in my teacher outfit; a pair of black Capri’s, a blue button up shirt, and a color coordinated necklace.
With the absence of Principal and the presence of wine and beer, people quickly began to cut loose. When I had gotten hired the District Personnel strongly suggested that teachers travel across the river, to the other side of town, to have “fun.” I was told that teachers are held to a higher standard and that I needed to dress and act “appropriately” in public. I guess this crowd felt like we were far enough from campus to be safe.
I slowly sipped at my wine and watched the dynamics of the group change. At first, we all politely chatted about people’s children and pets, laughing heartily at stupid jokes and nodding enthusiastically when asked a question. As time passed, the more serious teachers began to leave. One by one, teachers left the bar, until eventually there were only a handful of us left.
I learned that Mr. Thorpe plays in a local rock band. Caroline and her husband, Mark, are college football fanatics and avid drinkers of cheap beer. The Computer Lab teacher and the clubbing teachers can slurp down vodka smoothies at an alarming rate. The only thing we all had in common was that we were under the age of 35.
Our crowd started to feel loose and relaxed, and with these feelings came a slew of uninhibited gossip and slander about other teachers. Secretary is stuck-up, Librarian is stingy with her books, Lunch Lady hates children; the trash talk went on and on. Still sober, I kept my mouth shut.
I noticed that one of the clubbing teachers, a young First Grade teacher named Ms. Viamonte, had started to look a little green. Ms. Viamonte is a twenty-something, southern cheerleader brunette with huge boobs. She acts like she’s president of a college sorority. By the time she was on her third vodka drink, Ms .Viamonte still had not ordered any food. While the others conversed, Ms. Viamonte got louder and louder, swaying in her seat.
Ignoring Ms. Viamonte’s blatant drunkenness, we all laughed and exchanged silly teacher stories. It felt good to feel comfortable around the crowd, I felt like I was forming friendships with my coworkers. It was refreshing to realize that they were human, just like me. Mr. Thorpe invited us all out to see his band play sometime. The Computer Lab teacher tried to convince us all to join her at the clubs later that night. Mark insisted we all go to a football game together one weekend.
As our jovial crowd beamed at the prospect of future endeavors, Ms. Viamonte announced that she was going vomit. The drunken girl leaned her head over a nearby bush and started to cough. Caroline, who must have experience with drunkenness, jumped up and ushered Ms. Viamonte towards the bathroom.
The rest of the table seemed unfazed and one of them explained to me that Ms. Viamonte was notorious for getting drunk at teacher functions and that they had all expected it. A few minutes later, Caroline returned and announced that she was driving Ms. Viamonte home. By this point in the night, I had been nursing my second glass of warm wine for over an hour. I felt tired after the long week, so I also said goodnight and went home.