January 16th- Halfway to Happy Hour?

We're halfway through January, and the no drinking thing is working out quite well thus far. This past week was my first week as host of all three Poughkeepsie-area trivia nights, and I'm really enthused to have this opportunity. So much so, in fact, that I didn't really miss the beer until last night.

Monday night's gig (can I call them gigs? This may be the closest I get to being a rock star, so I'm going to call them gigs. Okay? Right.) at Mahoney's was an enjoyable time and the bartender told me that I did a great job. I didn't tell her that I'd been working on my craft on Thursday nights for a few months now...I just took the complement and went on my merry way. It DID feel good though to know that at least in some capacity, I am meeting expectations. Allow me to elaborate on that, so it's not as uhh...emo? Self-loathing?



Now that I'm done with grad school, I'm officially someone who isn't currently putting their higher education to good use. I'm subbing and I'm hosting. Both positions are fun (yes, subbing is fun. At least I enjoy it...there's nothing quite like the look on the face of a student who is expecting to coast through a period only to have the sub actually teaching a lesson). However, I want and need a full-time job. In the meantime, the jobs I DO have have gotten me some positive feedback and so it's nice to know that in these capacities, I am getting the job done.

Tuesday night was particularly sweet, as I returned to host at Darby O'Gill's in Hyde Park. After being told in no uncertain terms that my hosting there was finished after the summer, it was nice to be back at the helm, providing my own tunes and personal touch to the trivia scene. Got a few complements on Tuesday as well from both staff and patrons- who cited my approachable personality as well as a voice for radio as positives (and a lack of Rihanna songs), so I took those as good signs of the way things went...all the more fuel to the fire of keeping up the good show!

So the first two days of the week went very well, and I was not tempted once to have a drink. Now, Wednesday morning I was subbing for Mr. C over at my old elementary school, teaching P.E. to a bunch of 2nd graders. I was not this guy, or this one here...I felt like it, though. Kids can't throw for shit. I mean, really limp-wristed...I blew the whistle on a few kids who were clearly overstepping the line (literally) and trying to bend the rules (figuratively), as well. The moral of the story is: Don't fucking bring that weak shit into my gym!! PERIOD!

This poor guy could've been a second grader...forgot his sneakers and everything. You come PREPARED for gym with Mr. S! Punk.

First of all, let's explain the rules of the game that we played: Students threw bean bags (not this kind) across the floor trying to knock down pins that were set up behind students on the other half of the floor. If a pin got knocked over either by a bean bag OR by a kid who knocked his own pin over (this happened an outrageously high number of times throughout the day), then the kid whose pin got toppled had to go and either jump rope, do some mountain climbers, or jumping jacks. Bean bags are not allowed to be thrown through the air, or else violators were sentenced to a minute in the penalty box for not listening (also a high number of infractions). Students must stay in front of their pins while throwing said bags (not THESE bags); they may not run around like in dodgeball. They MAY, however, leave their post to retrieve an errant bean bag...leaving their pin unmanned. Once you finish your fitness stuff, resume your post, and continue destroying kids.

Sounds easy enough, right? WRONG! I would like to point out a number of flaws in this game (no offense to Mr. C, who I'm sure would have altered things for people who have somewhat developed some testosterone):
1) Fitness penalties did not include push-ups or sit-ups. To a lesser extent, they also lacked R. Lee Ermey.
2) 7 year-olds can't throw bean bags accurately for shit. There's just no getting around it. This is just the way things are. Can't be changed without Aryan-esque training (yeah, I bought into the bastardization of the word).
3) Kids left their shit WIDE open on the flanks! I couldn't believe it, and spent much of the morning pointing that out to students frantically like I was Peyton Manning signalling a flaw in the opposing defense. Needless to say, kids still threw like Jake Delhomme. It's like it never dawned on them to aim their bean bags at someone who WASN'T standing right in front of them. Once. I will admit that an astute young man in one of the classes picked up on it and had an amazingly high rate of success. That kid- and he may be the only one- has a future in strategery.

"What do you mean, 'can you tie my shoe'? What sort of (tirade of derogatory, 4-letter-laced profanities) are you???"

What, then, was the best part of this activity and day of subbing? The shit-talking. While there was an unfortunate lack of 4-letter words uttered, these kids really laid it on thick. They egged on their opponents, spread out, sat down NEXT TO their pins, taunting the shit out of opposing throwers..AND since the kids are limp-wristed and inaccurate, they couldn't do ANYTHING about it!! The highlight was a boy in one of the classes who's a little bigger than everyone else SHRIEKING after he knocked over a pin. Relax, kid. 1) you sound like a girl, 2) the pin is MAYBE 6 feet from you, and 3) you stepped over the line, thereby negating your triumph and earning you a minute in the penalty box. Loser.

Here's a mini-rant: This kid reminded me of what I hate most about professional football players: The senseless celebrations for DOING YOUR JOB! I can't quite put into words how infuriating it is to watch a guy make a tackle, pop up and dance around like a jackass. Congratulations, that's what you GET PAID TO DO FOR A LIVING! Particularly frustrating after getting torched the play before. Way to go.


Nice stop, guys...uhh, guys? Get back to the fucking line. It's 2nd and 1.


So, after working with 2nd graders all day, I napped hard, in an attempt to steer clear of the sexy-looking bottles in the fridge. Woke up and checked out Zack and Miri Make a Porno. Pretty funny stuff. Had the predictablly-cheesy "guilt-free sex turns into sex with feelings involved" angle that anyone could have seen coming (no pun intended), but other than that and the expected Seth Rogen, less-spoken-than-shouted-profanity-laced tirades, it really was a pretty funny movie. I enjoyed myself; a well-spent $2.

Thursday was fairly lackluster. Trivia went well and I really wanted a drink, though. I'm halfway there, and I guess that was really the first time I had a craving for a pint of beer. I mean like REALLY wanted one. That desire was shut down pretty quickly as I'm standing at the bar before the trivia began and waiting for a water. There was this old guy standing there next to me nursing his beer and looking at me disdainfully as the bartender, whom I've met out a few times this month at- oddly enough- bars during my stretch of sobriety, asked if I was still not drinking...

Old guy: you don't drink?
Me: No, sir. Gave it up for the month.
OG: Ehh, yer not missin' much (stares disdainfully at beer).
Me: Yeah, it's going pretty well. Sometimes I just want a nice cold beer, though.
OG: Nahh, yer not missin' much (stares at beer).
Me: I guess you're right. I know I can do without it. It's just a challenge when I spend four nights a week at the bar.
OG: Yeha, yer not missin' much (sizes up beer). You keep it up (finishes pint). Another, 'keep.

With that, I took my water and did my thing. In hindsight of the evening, I saw the terrible effects that alcohol(ism?) can have on people (the old guy), and also the merriment that comes with drinking. It's a trade-off and I guess that I'm just happy to be here and to be aware of the trade-off. With the people who drink to escape reality and their problems, there are the loose-lipped people who- when drunk- do and/or say things that they wouldn't dare do or say while sober...which leads me to today's final thought (thank you, Jerry Springer):

Talk to each other. Communicate.