Friday I broke up my first hallway fistfight. Ms. R the science teacher was ineffectually asking two seventh graders to cease pummeling each other, which they were doing vigorously with heads down. I was walking back from the Boys' Room to our classroom and decided to establish myself as a no-nonsense hall monitor on top of my teacher intern duties. I stepped between the boys, took a few weak blows on the belly and back, and said in my most authoritative voice "I know you are only playing but this behavior is unacceptable!" The chunky young man who'd just punched me in the stomach looked up in terror. Because their heads were down the boys hadn't noticed an adult between them. Fortunately I do many daily crunches as part of my workout routine, and over my firm muscular stomach is also a comfy padding of fat--the result of four or five (or six) alcoholic beverages consumed each evening, also part of my workout routine. A young fist in the stomach and/or love handles hurts not a bit. The kids stopped slinging awkward blows and scurried into line for their next class.
Some students at Booker T. are much larger than I. Were I to come across two behemoths duking it out, would I be so eager to step between them? The time will come when I'll find out.
Friday after school was happy hour at Dougherty's Pub. A nice place actually--I'd never been. The 20-something hipster teachers downed beers and tequila shots. I kept pace until Cha arrived, and we hung out for an hour and hit the road. I'll have many opportunities to drink with this crowd in the coming year. They're heavily into karaoke and duckpin bowling.