Uh-oh. The Lush was decidedly un-Lush-like this week.
Is it senioritis? March's stubborn refusal to "go out like a lamb" and its frigid nights and blustery winds? Or was it that I never got a ticket for senior Pub Night and gave up on the weekend from there?
I guess it's not really any of the above. When I want to go out, I go. It might just be for a single margarita at Mike's in Davis (surprisingly strong and delightfully cheap) or across campus to a house party (with an escort, of course), but it takes a lot to slow me down.
When I broke my foot - the fifth metatarsal, and yes, I was sober when I fell off the sidewalk - one week before Spring Fling last year, I worked the Hill on crutches. I had to have made it up and down that hill at least twice in three hours. I survived the mass mob of the Domino's line, batting people about the knees with my crutches and getting sympathy slices from some kindly students. Even though I had to practically body surf the jostling crowd to the port-o-potties, I did it.
So what happened to me this week? On Thursday, I was really disappointed that I didn't get a Pub Night ticket, a feeling that was considerably lessened after a friend who did manage to attend told me he spent less time enjoying the actual bar than he did waiting - waiting to get on the buses at the Campus Center, waiting outside the club, waiting to check his coat, and waiting to order drinks.
Friday night, I did several entirely un-noteworthy things - like watching DVR-ed episodes of "Jeopardy!" and putting away some winter clothing (an endeavor entirely founded on wishful thinking). Saturday was errand-filled, followed by a quick stop at a house party where many of the guests had celebrated so hard it was more entertaining to sit back and observe than it was to join in. It seemed that many of the guests were engrossed by a deck of playing cards featuring illustrations from fourth-century Greek vases. Doesn't sound interesting? Then you should brush up on your ancient art history.
Other than that, I didn't do much else. The theme of the weekend was lazy.
I did get to thinking at one point and worrying a bit about my complete lack of social drive. On the laziest, most uninspired of weekends, what would have motivated me to get out and stop moping over my senioritis?
Perhaps if someone had opened Club Sofa on, say, Curtis Avenue, then I'd have been there. I envision a low-key, coverless pub where it's always Ladies' Night. There would be couches everywhere, but not the nasty old couches á l? the defunct Someday Café. It wouldn't be pretentious, there wouldn't be a constant four to one ratio of men to women, and it wouldn't be a sports bar (though they'd have the pivotal games on when crowds demanded it). They would have $2.00 pitchers, fried cheesecake and non-stop episodes of "The Office" playing on the flat screens. Oh, and if you wear pajamas, you get to pick the next song off the bartender's iPod.
When said club exists, then I will never have to worry about an uneventful weekend ever again.
But then again, I've just described my ideal living room, complete with keg-erator. Boston, this weekend, things will be different.
The Lush has some catching up to do.
Kate Peck is a senior majoring in English. She can be reached at Katherine.Peck@tufts.edu.
