Miriam and I usually have our most meaningful conversations pre-9am
(and if you know either of our schedules, you are well aware that we have both
been awake for at least three hours by this point, even on a Saturday). So, a
few weekends ago, around 8am on a Saturday, we were discussing the reckless things
we used to do when we were in college – things that we would be disgusted and
unable to do at our now, significantly more ‘mature’ age.
Reckless Example #1: Using the Rinse Cup at a frat house’s
beer pong table.
If you have ever been to a frat party in college, you are
well aware of the communal beer pong tables that you use. As if being present in a frat basement isn’t
disgusting enough, now add on the fact that you are playing beer pong at a
table where about seventy people you may (but most likely do not) know have
played before you. Your ‘rinse’ cup,
which is supposed to contain clean water to rinse your ball off when it rolls off
the table and around on the atrocious floor of the basement of the frat house,
is most likely vomit-worthy. If you look into the cup, there are dust balls and
miscellaneous solids, probably fecal bacteria and a lone strand of hair (or
two) floating around inside. And yet, without fail, you dip your ball into the
rinse cup to ‘clean’ it off. The ball subsequently
falls into your beer a few moments later, and you then chug the components of
your cup without a care in the world.
Reckless Example #2: Running to a frat party in the middle
of January in a wife beater, denim skirt and flip flops.
Not to say that the aforementioned outfit itself is not atrocious
enough to outgrow at our ‘mature’ age, but the thought of running from the
dorms to a frat party wearing close to nothing in the winter, makes me want to die
as I now approach thirty. I’m not going
to lie, I remember why we did this. It was to prevent ourselves from having to
throw our only winter coat into some nondescript pile on some bacteria-ridden couch
in the frat house, only to never see it again after that moment. So we decided
it was a much better option to chance pneumonia and frostbite and then trooped
onwards through our college career in our flip flops and wifebeaters.
So, as Miriam and I discuss these embarrassing examples of ‘immaturity,’
we fail to remember what we had done just that night before.
Flashback to Friday night.
We are on a Santa Bar Crawl. Dressed as [extremely
attractive] zombie Santas (obviously). And several shots, a bottle of champagne
and a few mixed drinks later, we end up at a dive bar where we proceed to order
some combination of cheese fries and buffalo wings. Sitting next to us, is a random group of people
also at a table with food. We were instantaneously
drawn to a specific condiment that came with their food order –something that
looked like a cross between duck or sweet and sour sauce, but with lots of garlic.
And so we asked to try it because of how incredible it looked. But what’s
worse, is that we didn’t ask to just try it. We asked if we could pour some of
their condiments into our tequila shots.
They agreed and we took this shot. Let me reiterate: We poured random
people’s USED condiments into our shots and took them. And just the next
morning, we are discussing how we would never do the things we used to do in
college.
Sometimes I think I am a lot more mature than I actually am.
