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Issue 17.1: Orientation
Posted: September 1, 2001

The Epic Drunken Email

Your last chance at forgiveness

Paul Campion

So. It's two days after the drop date, and, like a mediocre colossus, you find yourself bestriding a mighty C- in your favorite Sociology course. What to do? Some might advise more work. They are the ass-clowns. Others might advise scheduling an appointment with the professor, a meeting when you may grub for grades. "That's not a bad idea," you say, "but gosh! How can I show him that I suddenly care about his class? I doubt he knows me from Adam in the lecture hall. In fact, the only instance my professor ever laid eyes on me was that day when I came in after Intro to Fitness, when perspiration clung against my entire body not unlike dew on a tall blade of grass!"

Sweatiness only goes so far in academia. Eight weeks in to the semester, will you need to discuss a sensitive matter with the prof and still lack a solid first impression? Hopefully not. But if so, remember the magic of that most red-blooded of collegiate communiqués: the drunken email.

Emails are very much like people in that a few are much improved without inhibitions. Sometimes, as the literary elite will testify, the sauce can really draw out feelings and help communicate an intricate point.

The vast majority, however, take a spill on the face like a Barnard pre-frosh on frat row. By keeping in mind just a few quick rules, those drunken emails can turn from an incoherent embarrassment into a mere embarrassment.

It may be a good idea to stick to the point: write no more than two sentences and call it an email. Example:

"I am having trouble in x3012 Primate Group Behavior for the Disinterested Nonscientist. Can we meet to talk?"

There. Fine. The point is communicated, and a soft soft bed is nearby. It's unpolished, but the necessary info is there. By contrast, I can't imagine anything more troubling for a professor than checking his email only to find the following in green 26-point Lefty Casual font:

"So you down widdit?"

That's not so good because it doesn't contain any information. Just because you know what you want to say doesn't mean that your audience does. In this case, there are two problems that result: the original one of making an appointment, and the off chance that the instructor will make a confidential reference to being widdit during lecture.

Spacing. That's pretty important. People, it's one space before and after a word. Anything else is a dead giveaway.

The most interesting drunken email pathology lies in the obscure poetic verb/object combinations. Sure, it may sound funny at the time when you type in an offer to "drink up your legs," but only the English-as-Second-Language General Studies folks can get away with such nonsense. Should you be a victim of your own doing, don a shiny Italian soccer jersey and hang out on South Lawn. The professor will eventually drop by, and he will understand entirely.

And then there's the avid test. See what it feels like the next day. If you wake up with an ongoing nameless sense of dread, check the Pine "sent" box immediately. If, after realizing you told your professor that "th eEarth turnssssssaw ayfrom myview every days inyou r lectres," well, slap your forehead and try again later. God only knows what you may have been thinking at the time, and there are few things more frustrating that trying to resurrect those gin-soaked warblings. Among the more frustrating things, by the way, are 1) looking for the Pine "Unsend" function and 2) composing a combination apology/reschedule email. But the Bedford Guide covers the latter. Don't worry. Those things write themselves. Have another one for yourself.