About 8 30 post meridian time, Thursday
So im in this frat frat frat frat. its a really sweet frat frat frat, and joining was mos def a really good decision. kind of like when georgetown decided to reject that offer to join the ivy league. also a smart choice, no doubt.
Anyway, im at this pregame with my frat frat frat, doing the usual collegiate stuff. beer pong, playing fifa, etc. Pretty standard, but also very good stuff. Overall, everyone seems to be having swell time. Spirits were definitely on the upper part of the good stuff o-meter. They however, hadn't heard the news.
I got the call at around 8 30. No, not the same call from that backstreet boys song. but close. This one was from our fraternity president, telling me to meet him in this freshman dorm so that we could have a little chat with the 3 clowns who had e-mailed us earlier in the day telling us that they had decided to drop out of our pledge program. Because we were expecting their change of heart just as much as one expects the new jersey nets to win a basketball game, the news was not only shocking, but also unnerving. So even though i was mid beer pong game, I immediately peaced. And i'll be the first to say that there aren't many things more important than finishing a beer pong game. But this kind of was.
Ten minutes later I had arrived in this second floor common room. The scene looked like something out of some mobster movie. The three fools were sitting around big looooooooowell (our president), as he was attempting to try and convince them to rejoin. Dressed up in a suit and all (he had come from some business function), he looked like a crime boss trying to persuade some thugs to help him with a hit.
I sat down, and immediately joined the conversation. Because everyone was being all serious satellite radio, i decided to make some jokes. you know, the usual mood lightening stuff. i figured that would be the best way to get to the bottom of (mike) the situation, as these kids were all up tight and shit. After about 40 minutes of talking about pretty much nothing (they basically talked around every single question of ours), we decided to give up. We deduced that they were only really interested for the parties, and honestly, we really didn't need slimeballs like that. So we thanked them for their consideration and all of that other proper formal stuff, and left.
But after all they had put me through (me being rush chair, recruiting them as ruthlessly as lane kiffin, them being all gung ho about joining, and then them dropping out as suddenly as twitter rose and fell), i was not about to let them off that easily. So i decided to leave my wallet behind. Purposely. that way, they would have to contact me again. It was a last ditch effort, but i didn't really care at that point. Plus, i thought it was genius move, and i was pretty impressed with myself for even thinking of such slyness (and lucy)
I arrive back in my apartment, where the pregame is in full swing. Like, it wasn't bunting or check-swinging. It was as full throttle as a pregame could be. Slightly depressed by my lack of success, and even more depressed that i couldn't waltz into the room ala borat and declare, 'Great success!' I decided that i didn't really feel like drinking. Or for that matter, be around people. I get like that sometimes. Anyways, I decided to vacate the premises and head off to the library and get some work done, and possibly entertain my audience with this blog i decided to start doing. apparently really cool, you should read it.
As I was about to leave, I realized that I needed my gocard to get into the library. Because my gocard was in my wallet, its name was kind of contradictory at that point, because i couldn't actually go anywhere. Might as well have been the stop card. Joking aside, my lack of gocard wasn't a huge deal- I could just borrow my roommates. So I asked J money for his gocard. Thankfully he obliged. My problem was solved. Or so i thought... (insert ominous music herehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvCI-gNK_y4 ).
I get to the library. If you've never been to Joseph P. Lauinger memorial library, there is a security booth at the front at which you must flash your gocard in order to gain entry. Because they never really actually take your go card and examine it like a worry wart does while checking over his answers for the 7th time during a chemistry test, i really didn't think i would have a problem. Boy, was i wrong.
I flash the gocard, perhaps slightly faster than normal. As I was about to walk by, the lady at the desk assertively bellows 'Stop. Let me see that.' Knowing I was screwed (my roommate doesn't look anything like me), I calmly explained that I lost my wallet and that I was just trying to get some work done, and that I would leave if I she couldn't let me in
This lady however, was downright psycho. Imagine the entire plot of american beauty, tyler hansborough, and edward norton during fight club combined. That was this lady. She proceeds to start cursing and yelling at me, saying what i did was completely dishonest and insulting. Slightly taken aback by her complete out of controlness, I again apologized, told her I made a mistake, and asked her for the gocard so I could leave. She however, flat out refused to listen to anything I had to say. Though she may have looked like aretha franklin, she certainly had no r e s p e c t.
'You're a liar,' she said. 'I'm not giving you back this fucking card. I'm reporting this to the base station'
She was referring to the base station of DoPs, Georgetowns department of public safety.
Knowing that anything negative i said from there would only get me in more trouble, I decided to respectfully ask her where the base station was.
Half amused half outraged, I made the trip to the base station. Right before I arrived, I ran into a DoPs officer.
wow, this is much longer than I thought it was. probably better to read it over two posts. I'll conclude here, but i'll finish the rest of this thrilling tale tomorrow
I know you are reading because you tell me you are, so make a comment. It would make me feel good (inc.)
Song of the day: in my frat frat frat, my brother name is boy band. thus, in that spirit, we got a classic:
I just want you to know: Backstreet Boys
*reference to the hey arnold theme song. outstanding show, except the fact that stinky lived on a farm in the middle of the city never really made too much sense..