I am perfectly okay, at the moment, in the realization that I only have a limited amount of time left in college. However, this is something that comes in waves. I know at some point in the near future [or even later today] I will be whining to someone about it being over and collapse into nostalgic fits of great proportions.
The thing that makes me realize it is all coming to an end, more than impending graduation and eviction from The Life into Cold Harsh Reality, are the people who are just beginning. The people who, doe eyed and innocent, greet today like they would Jesus if he came down and made them homemade waffles. With blueberry syrup. That he also made himself.
If you haven’t guessed, these people are the newbies. The young ones. The kiddies. The frosh. And they are nothing but a constant reminder that I am old and soon will no longer be matriculated at this University, but job searching and apartment hunting. It’s a scary thought. In all actuality, there is little difference between a college student and a college graduate. It all lies within the labels. It is just very difficult to make the transition from College Student to Unemployed Drunk.
The only thing that makes me feel better about all of this is a singular and solitary truth. At least I’m better than them. Now, I don’t mean in the way of human worth or anything philosophically trite as that. Just the important stuff. Allow me to explain.
Every year, on the first weekend before classes begin, the freshmen of the University find the need to congregate and pay homage to their gods in the hopes that they will bestow upon them bountiful portions of beer and alcohol. Their place of worship is the intersection of Waverly and Comstock. For blocks and blocks, herds [seriously, it is like all 3,500 of them showed up] of devote freshmen can be found, wandering from house to house, down street after street, looking for the gifts of booze promised to them by their deities.
Pathetic. Enjoy the house party that you and half your class found that costs $5 to get into, only to be served luke warm beer [and you’ll only get one of those, because it will run out quickly]. And is it even worth it? The amount of self esteem you must lose after getting screamed FREEEESHMEEEEN by upper classmen in cars must totally take away from that one beer buzz.
As I sit here at the main desk of my hall [main desk assisting it up…$6.20/hour…jealous?] I am also noticing some several other reasons why I am better than those born in the 87′ or 88′ [isn’t that disgusting?]. As many of you know, a college student is nothing without their student ID. This is many things to a student. This is nourishment. This is security. This is home. Without it, you are lost. You can’t even swipe into your building.
Within the last two hours, I have witnessed at least 15 freshmen try to open the main doors to the building without swiping. The look of pure confusion as they try to pull open a locked door is only trumped by the look of defeat as they just stand there not knowing what to do next.
Being the merciful senior slash RA I am, I decided to prop open one of the two doorways. Each doorway is comprised of two doors, and the doors are only about 3 feet next to one another. I propped open one of the doors in the hopes that the freshmen will just walk through.
I made one mistake, though. I propped open the EXIT door, and not the ENTRANCE door. So freshmen will walk up to the door, go through the can’t open the door cycle of emotions, and then just stand there. Meanwhile, 3 feet away, the EXIT door is propped open, just waiting to give them refuge from class. An additional 12 people [at least] have done this.
These kids have a lot of learning to do. They are still in the mind set that the food they ate at the dining halls is great. Sorry, kiddos, but they only cook the grade A meat for when the parents are here. Now its back to rats and pigeons. You should have taken a hint when you realized the dining hall is the bowl part of a toilet.
Eventually, though, they will learn. It will just take time, effort, sleepless nights and hung over days. But they will learn. And, like the Circle of Life, they will teach those who enter into our establishment in the years to come with a zest and energy matched by few. Until then, they will continue to be taunted from cars, turned away from parties, locked out of their halls and eating alley animals without knowing it. It’s the learning year.
Good thing I never did any of that.
ps…in about an hour and a half, there have been about another 15 people to get trapped at the doors.