After a lot of internal debate and a few pro-con lists (and one venn diagram), I made the decision not to rush. So the night before rush began, I went out with a friend, tried on my first pair of beer goggles, and went home with David. He lived in a dorm all the way across campus so I made the safe/lazy decision to just spend the night in his ultra-luxurious extra-long dorm bed. In my head I assumed we would wake up and talk about everything under the sun including pop culture happenings, crazy campus construction news, the location of my bra, and breakfast ideas.
But it didn’t go as planned. He woke me up bright and early, said he had “stuff” to do, and kicked me out before I could even get dressed. So I left the dorm and began the long walk back to my dorm. Except I forgot about rush.
As I walked back to my dorm (which is surrounded by all the other freshman dorms) I encountered every single girl I’ve met at school so far. And I’m not even kidding.
Picture this: I’m wearing a typical walk of shame outfit and they’re all decked out wearing bright pink rush shirts. A sea of bright pink shirts asking me “is that you?” and “are you that girl in my Spanish class?” One of the older girls, upon seeing me in a black dress and boots, even handed me a mint and tried to corral me into line thinking I was in her rush group.
“No no,” I had to explain. “I’m on my way…home.”
[You think that’s bad? Check out our other cringe-worthy Morning After stories.]