College Is Like A Second Childhood

Stupid things are the best things to get excited about--the silly things you change your clothes for, invite friends to, and go to great lengths to get there.  My excitement for my Friday night plans put me on a happy high even through my three and a half hour shift washing revolting dishes in the cafeteria.   Working for the slave labor union is exhausting, time consuming, and always miserable, but serving and cleaning up after you pigs has its perks.  On my way out of work I inconspicuously grabbed a tray and continued on my way back to my dorm.  I then put on three pairs of pants, three pairs of socks, snow boots, three long sleeved shirts, a hoody, a coat, a fleece scarf and hat, and two pairs of gloves.  I grabbed my tray and joined my friend as we walked fifteen minutes from Denny Hall to Martin Hill. 

We watched as other students sped down the suicidal steep hill.  “He’s from California,” a boy said, as if it was an entirely perfect explanation as to why a boy was speeding first face into the parking lot.  My friend and I were handed a rug that someone took from Martin Hall.  “You can sit on it first…” she told me.  “Gee, thanks!”  I said as we got on it and I rolled up the front.  Someone gave us a push and I screamed as we soared down the hill on our magic carpet.  When we got to the bottom, we flew off our rug-sled and skidded until we were laughing on our backs in the parking lot. 

The hike back up the hill was more like a treacherous rock climb.  My friend took the rug for me and then stood at the top for ten minutes, cheering me on and instructing me on how to walk pigeon toed so I didn’t fall.  When we were finally both standing at the top, we watched as others tried tray-boarding and tray-skiing.  I looked around at everyone standing there.  I knew about five out of twenty or so kids, joking and laughing as we stood together, bored college students making our own fun; members of a community that I’ll be a part of for four short years, probably the last self-indulgent and merry-making years of youth that I’ll have.