Sometimes you realize that all your coworkers are really still college seniors.

I was at school last night to lead my weekly English club during the two hours during the week that have been designated as time for cultural activities. Each professor at the school is supposed to be present each Friday from 5-7 p.m. to lead an extracurricular activity: football, gardening, traditional singing and dancing, journalism.

Before I started my session last night, one of my colleagues had told me that we were supposed to stop at 6 p.m. so we could all have a teacher’s meeting. I cringed (both inwardly and outwardly) at this information. I had already traveled to and from the city to visit the bank that day, which meant I had already fought with taxi drivers, spent the day in the hot sun and not taken a nap. I was ready for the weekend.

When 6 p.m. rolled around, we all dutifully let out our clubs. “Have a good weekend,” my students shouted at me as the teachers all gathered in school yard to see who would make the first move to get this meeting started.

Turns out, it was our vice principal.

He looked around at all of our tired faces, and I don’t know if he realized that we were all ready to not be working anymore, but he asked the question that would change everything about the meeting:

“To the bar?”