When I was a freshman in college, I lived in the dorm for the first semester—before my ill-fated residence the second semester in a sorority house—where I lived in the Pledge Porch and shared the room with seven other co-eds with binge drinking problems—and developed an additional problem myself—hemorrhoids. (There was only one bathroom—more on that later.)
At the beginning of the year I had a bad habit of traipsing through the cafeteria on my way back from class to my dorm room. There was a soft-serve ice cream machine that worked 24/7. Totally bad idea but totally delicious nonetheless.
On one such occasion, with vanilla cone in hand, I breezed past a row of tables on my way out. A guy eating by himself caught my eye. He looked familiar.
Was it him? Yes, I think it was. “Brian, Brian _____, is that you?”
The guy looked up and said he was Brian.
I said, “Hi, remember me? Toni from Gilbert Elementary.”
He looked bored.
“We had Mrs. Holmes and Mr. Allen’s classes together.”
He said, “I remember them. I don’t remember you.” He shrugged.
Oh, c’mon on. It wasn’t that long ago. My looks couldn’t have changed that much. I had the same hair-do (long and straight). Same hair color (as duplicated by Clairol Nice-n-Easy #104). I recalled having to dance with him in 5th grade (part of a music program-ugh). I also recalled we were in the same 1st grade class with Mrs. Beatty.
“I remember you,” I said. “You were friends with Mitch. I was friends with Jo Ella.”
He still denied any recollection of me. Had I done something to bug him back then? Or maybe he didn’t want to play the “Remember when?” game. Or maybe he took one look at me and said to himself, “Sorority Dodo” and decided to play dumb.
I gave up and said, “Oh, well. What’s your major?”
He replied, “Journalism.” He started eating again.
I said, “Great. Good luck with that.”
On my way out the door I thought I could have said, “I know your I.Q. and your grades” to prove we were classmates. But I didn’t. I could save that info for later, if needed. But I never saw Brian on campus again.
Maybe he flunked out? Nah, he was too smart. Got a sudden urge to be a Bruin or a Cal Bear instead? Possible. Decided the the sky-high cost of tuition wasn’t worth it. Even more possible.
But more likely, it was me—with my heavily Greek-influenced college life. I’m not talking about the Greek language. I’m referring to the fraternity-sorority system that reprioritized my purpose in college from getting an education to getting a buzz. I wouldn’t have recognized a serious college student—even if he were sitting next to an ice cream machine. (And more on that later, too….)
