Things to do this weekend Instead of frat parties.
It’s a recurring problem. You come out of your last section Thursday night and have one of two thoughts: Thought A is “What am I doing at this school? Those kids just made me look like an absolute idiot, and I hate my body.” Thought B is, if you’re on the other end of this equation, “Wow and to think that kid actually thought he understood the impact of colonization on the indigenous peoples of the Yucatan Peninsula! I sure showed him and I’m smarter.”
Either way, you usually come out of the situation with four three-hour work days under your belt looking for some sort of drink, some sort of “social gathering.” In an effort to help you all I shall call upon my unprecedented wisdom after six months at a school most of you have attended for much, much longer. I shall share some thoughts in an article most of you will end up throwing out.
The first alternative to a frat party on a weekend night is of course a frat party. That is to say, I’m fairly confident that a good amount of you reading this could honestly care less as to what I possibly say, so go ahead and go to your party. The joke is on me. You’re laughing, I’m crying. This is not to say I dislike fraternities; I happen to be in one. But there is an important distinction to be made between being part of a fraternity and standing around at one with a plastic cup for an hour waiting to find out that the keg has been tapped and the girl you’ve been hitting on is a lesbian.
Yet, should you find yourself in this unfortunate situation there is still hope. Undoubtedly, there will be a deliciously good-looking couple making out in the middle of the room, both under the influence of the first alcoholic drink they have ever had. What’s better is that there will probably be a great J-Lo song blasting that helped nudge these people into their state of middle-school lust.
So here’s my first real advice: read your textbooks. I most certainly do not condone this, but again, given my audience, I feel confident that, indeed, many of you will take this advice to heart and enjoy a quiet night with Plato, Locke or Matt Christopher. There really is nothing like getting a cold glass of fruit punch, shutting yourself away in your bedroom, and doing some good old fashioned homework by the candle light, using a quill pen.
More power to you.
Here is an interesting one for those of you not yet satisfied: have a talk with a New Haven bum. Approach him confidently, look him in the eyes, and state proudly, “Yes I have some change, in fact I have $300 in my wallet, and should I decide to give it to you, I never want to see you begging for change again. But if I do see you, I want you to be begging in a $300 suit.”
At this point it will probably be the case that you have made a friend for life. Invite him back to your room for a bottle of wine and a philosophical discussion about the meaning of life; achieve self-actualization through interaction with one of society’s have-nots, and then kindly inform him that you don’t have the $300.
If you are still reading at this point and have a genuine interest in finding an alternative to a frat party, my only advice left to give you would be to take a hike. Go for a drive, visit another college, and maybe write up some clever jokes to mail to Milton Berle. No wait, he’s dead. You could try writing some J-Lo lyrics. This is not to say she needs to have lyrics that could conceivably have been written by someone above the age of 11, it just might help her sell records when she stops working out.
The bottom line is this: Yale is what you make of it. Take some initiative, and do something creative, like writing a ridiculous article or buying a Romanian baby. If you enjoy frat parties, then by all means go to them. If not, do not complain, because every time you complain a child dies.
The purpose of this article was neither to make friends or enemies. My only real enemies in this world are Romanian babies who wear $300 suits. Rather, this article was a means by which to share with each of you why I spend my weekends alone listening to Luther Vandross.
Teddy Pataki ’05 is an affable young man..