Before I even make my point this week (if I even make one), I have to tell you a story that was too funny to leave out. If I had the time to change the whole column around it, I would have. My roommate taught me an important lesson this week - Pabst Blue Ribbon (PBR) will respond to drunken e-mails - thereby opening up a whole new realm of possibilities for activities to do drunk while waiting for Domino's to deliver at 3 a.m.
Said roommate was angry that PBR does not include the alcohol content of their beer on their packaging, so she sent the following e-mail: "I don't wanna sound like a big tool, but we were wondering tonight what the exact alcohol content of pbr is. We looked everywehre on your cans and on the box of the 30 we got and failed to find anything. So yea you should know this truth. Please get back to me and I'll love you forever. Although i already do love you forever so we're cool....right...thanks! bye!"
They responded: "A 12 oz. serving of PBR contains 4.73% alcohol by volume....Thanks."
I know that took up a significant amount of space, but aren't you glad to know PBR responds to e-mails written by people who are blatantly drunk? The Lush sure is. The Lush has said this before and she will say it again - senior pub nights are the most ridiculous nights of senior year. At the most recent one I had the opportunity to observe my classmates at first while drunk, and then as the night progressed, while increasingly sober.
They are unlike any other night because all rules of social decorum fly so far out the window they are not even specks on the horizon. We'll get into the specifics in a little bit.
I had very high hopes for last Thursday's pub night at the Rack. Even though walking by it had always struck me as one of those mildly pathetic meat markets for 35 year olds who think they are 22, I was pretty excited.
With a long week finally behind me, I was ready for a good buzz. We played our newly-invented OC Drinking Game. We began with a hearty pan of Christmas-colored Jell-o shots (made with classy Cossack brand vodka), and were soon happily imbibing to rules like "a Cohen eats a bagel," "a female character wears braids," and "Kirsten wears jeans."
When our friend Micah arrived late we shamelessly screwed him over by giving him half of the cards, including the deadly, "a character wears a sweatshirt." That the episode included a "Sweatshirt Party" must have been some very cruel fate.
By the time we made it onto a bus, the Lush had already received the first shock of the night. I had intended to treat my friend Max to a celebratory drink for handing in his thesis, only to hear that he had been removed from the bar within minutes of arrival ... before the Lush had even left Tufts! He is not really the type of guy one would expect to find booted from a bar, but the poor guy forgot about the beer in his back pocket. The Rack was not amused. See, Professor Gill, I am not the only bad seed among your advisees.
Like most pub night venues, the Rack was crazy expensive, and, as the Lush has mentioned time and time again, she is crazy cheap. As a result, I veered ever closer to sobriety as the night progressed, so I was able to make some observations I missed out on at prior pub nights.
Firstly, no matter how profound and important the drunken heart-to-heart you are having may seem, to an outside observer (or eavesdropper like yours truly) it sounds idiotic. Overhead in the ladies' room: "Guys, our friendship is just so awesome ... I mean, honestly, who's still friends with their friends from freshman year? Like, our friendship is just so beautiful and I am sooooooooo thankful." Lush's note: Um, everyone is.
Next, and this may make the Lush sound like a bad person, but I think most people would agree with me: Tufts is a school where one meets new people on an almost daily basis. We cannot possibly be expected to remember every single person we meet, can we?
That's why that social convention in which we just pretend we don't know certain people is a good thing. Less awkwardness.
Not so at senior pub night - at the Rack this rule was violated left and right. Remember that guy you hooked up with freshman year? Not only will he acknowledge your existence for once, he may even proposition you. Remember the girl you sat next to in Math 005? Well, at pub night, you guys are BFF.
My God does the Lush find this phenomenon annoying. I know it is a high pressure situation to be in a room with that many Jumbos, but if we aren't friends, let's not pretend we are. Pretending we don't know each other is a social norm for a reason - no awkward conversations.
Case in point: the Lush was being introduced to a group of people, and one guy says, "I've met you before." Two others pipe in with "Me too."
Why is that necessary? It's not. It's awkward and it's got to stop. Seniors, we have a month and a half left together. Yes, that's depressing. But let's not let our nerves get in the way of the maintenance of the social norms that have served us so well for the last four years.
Not to sound completely bitter. The Lush had an absolutely super time. When it all comes down to it, as usual, the Lush violated her own rules. Finally, after two years of searching, the Lush met Rick. Rick is a fellow senior. Rick's mother was my nurse when I had my tonsils out sophomore year. In a morphine-induced haze the Lush became quite enamored of Rick's mom. And don't worry, I made sure to tell him all about it at pub night.
That was before I got sober and got some perspective. Thankfully, it wasn't too awkward of a conversation, because apparently she had sent Rick looking for me, too. So cheers to Rick's mom and the reinstatement of appropriate social interactions within the senior class.
