St. Patrick’s Day in England

March 18, 2007 at 12:32 am Leave a comment

As today was St. Patrick’s Day, I felt a compelling need to set my studies aside so I could go down to the pub to observe and interact with the locals. What other chance would I have to be in the British Isles on this day of days? Surely all sorts of things would be afoot.

Mostly, it was as I expected; people who had drunk to the point of being sick, plenty of annoying drunks, a few that were hilarious in that sad, shambling sort of way… the regular lot. But there was one thing that was different, and entirely unexpected. Tonight, my English professor was there.

To put what I’m about to tell you in context, please realize that my English Professor is a somewhat tall and ridiculously lanky man, the kind it seems a high wind might knock over. In addition, he is almost a caricature of British reservedness; quiet, mild-mannered, polite to a fault.

And tonight, he was completely and utterly hammered (or, as he put it in the English vernacular, “ratted”).

Just how bad was it? He mentioned watching the rugby match between England and Wales today, and I made the mistake of asking him who won. He glared into my eyes, and with a voice filled with righteous indignation threatened to “lay me out” if I should dare ask that question again. To drive home the point, he brandished his fists at me. That’s right; my English professor threatened to beat me up for calling into question the results of a rugby match.

Five minutes later, he had forgotten the incident ever happened, and accused me of being a liar when it was brought to his attention. He then proceeded to insult my taste in Beatles albums, and we spent the next ten minutes talking about Star Wars.

It is perhaps the most ridiculous thing I have ever been a part of. My only regret is that when the morning comes, he won’t remember any of it.

Editor’s Note: This post actually got me into some amount of trouble after one of the RAs at the school found it and insisted I was lying. Later on he came on to me about how the things I blog about could be damaging to people. Huh. For the record, everything I write about my life is true, and in this case I have witnesses to back me up.

The best part of the night was the long discussion of the Star Wars prequels that sequed into my professor telling me about his youth stealing street signs. My English professor, like so many of my professors last year, was fantastic. In fact, this one was my second English professor; the first one quit half-way through the year to go play in a rock band. It was a hell of a faculty.

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And now Another Update…. More Adventures with Professors

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