The after party

At the end of JG’s first year of teaching, he told me that everyone in his department was attending the retirement party, which was coordinated by what I like to call the Faculty Fun Committee. One of our closer teacher friends was and is the Fun Leader, and she was pretty bent on having a good proportion of younger teachers present. Plus, JG’s department head was retiring, so it was only right to go. I like any opportunity to dress up and see JG’s co-workers, so I willingly put it on the calendar.

First, though, I had to go with JG to graduation, which had to be indoors that year due to weather. Students, parents, and relatives were crammed into the stuffy school building, and JG walked briskly through the hallways to get his bearings on what was going on, since he was a rookie. I trotted along behind him in kitten heels, doing my best not to slip on the terrazzo floors, and more than one administrator gave me an odd look as if to say, “Aren’t you supposed to have your graduation gown on, young lady?”

Once JG found his post, I sat with another teacher’s wife to watch the closed-circuit television broadcast of the ceremony in the auditorium. There was speech after speech after musical number after speech, and the list of seniors to be announced seemed interminable. At last, it was over, I wormed among the masses of people with my fellow spectator to find our husbands, and we all headed to the party.

When I jokingly coined the term “Faculty Fun Committee,” I mistakenly assumed that there would be a modicum of fun involved. I suppose there is an upper limit of fun at which a retirement party tops out, but however much we paid for our tickets was just not worth it. The atmosphere was not great, due in part to the windowless room populated by tired teachers who had been at the school for more than twelve hours. I don’t remember if there was a bar, but if there was, it didn’t have a positive effect on me. I had not mentally prepared for sitting through the long ceremony only to have a piece of overcooked chicken and some cheese cubes. It was nice to meet JG’s colleagues and see the corny tributes the departments created for their retirees, but, oh, I was tired. On the way home, I told JG that I would be happy to come with him whenever he, or any of his friends, retired, but until then, I did not mind passing on this blessed event. He didn’t blame me.

Last year, without telling the Fun Leader, a group of us skipped the retirement dinner and made a reservation at an Asian fusion restaurant. JG and I tried sushi for the first time, I had a lovely Chilean sea bass entrée, and the restaurant has become one of our favorite places. Such a change from the year before!

Tonight, after this year’s graduation, the tradition continues at a new (to us) Italian place. I’m excited to put on a cute dress and see our teacher friends. I just wish the Fun Leader could join us.