I See Drunk People

I was just sitting in the computer lab, minding my own business, when a swarm of freshmen swirled into the room. The hormones, the confusion, the undeserved sense of worth-- possibly my most frightening experience in recent memory.

But that's not what this post is about. I just find it funny how your opinions and outlook can change in four short years.

Anyway, while it wasn't the most frightening experience (see above), last night was indeed one of the strangest few hours I had ever spent on the streets of West Chester. In an attempt to garner more PR (and free tee-shirts) a seven of my brothers and I signed up to help the Off-Campus and Commuter Association hand out soft pretzels to the drunks in an attempt to get some food into their stomachs. We were to stand on the streets from 12 AM until 2:45 AM, act cheerful, and exhort the soberness-impaired to pleasepleaseplease be careful. The Bum Grabber had struck again that night and managed to score his first complete robbery (good for him, I guess. You shouldn't have to spend your entire criminal career as a loser.)

Just a note: OCCA, in a moment of outrageous naivete, begged us to wear our flimsy green tee-shirts under open jackets, either for easy identification or sex appeal, I'm not so sure. But you can bet your little yellow booties that few--if any-- people did. What OCCA failed to take into account was that it was the middle of November. Sure, I wore my shirt, but it was under two sweatshirts, a scarf, and a pea coat. I looked like bowling ball balancing on two skinny legs.

We set off at about 11:30 and settled in front of the local Baptist church on the high street, the main migratory route for all breeds of drunk. We were given a rickety table, a sign (which read "WCU Free Pretzles"-- spot the error there), and about 50 rock-hard, frozen pretzels. Two Pi Kap boys joined us, one who was the president of IGC, the organization we had been trying to get into. So we female brothers used our undeniable charms to woo this young man, though I believe we were slightly hampered by 20 layers of clothing and a sheen of newly-frozen sweat. Then, we waited.

It took a while, but college students began to appear. Most of them were already stuffing their mouths with pretzels, so OCCA had seen fit to place a pretzel table on every other block. we managed to stuff pretzels into the hands of a few, less vigilant souls, but most caught on to our plan. Not that we could blame them-- why would you want to pay to go the bars if free pretzels kept you from being nice and slobbering. One girl, who had obviously gotten an early start on the festivities, took a pretzel, broke it in half, then told us to save it for her return. She became hysterical when we insisted that she just take it with her and come back for more. More on her later.

Over the next few ours, we watched as a bewildered man in a nice suit got arrested (our bet is on public urination), meatheads proved their manhood by throwing our pretzels on the ground, and girls in short skirts and little tops trotted by. Several littles came to visit us (including one of mine) and one of the Pi Kaps bought us all coffee.

I would be lying if I didn't say that the main reason for volunteering was to watch my normally serious brothers acting giddy with exhaustion and frostbite. We danced, sang, touched each other inappropriately-- the normal things girls do when out of our minds. I got to know people that I had only seen in meeting settings and showed them that I wasn't the goody-goody people think I am. It was the best bonding experience that I had ever participated in since I joined PSP and I wouldn't give it up-- even if I do end up losing my frozen toes.

Towards the end of the night, the girl who refused the other half of her pretzel came back, this time towing a friend with her.

"Where's my pretzel?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I told you that I was coming back! I want my half of pretzel!"

For her sheer chutpah, we gave her a whole new pretzel and offered one to her friend. It should be noted that this girl was absolutely hammered and staggering. At the sight of the pretzel, she shrieked.

"Nooooooo! I have a date party on Friday and I can't have any carbs!" She ruffled her hair and staggered off.

I would like to find her sometime and show her the carb content of whatever she had been swilling that night. I don't think one pretzel was going to tip the scales.

I only managed to get home around 2:30 AM, nursing frozen toes and fingertips.

Yay for college!

K.