Weekend Brunch at the Dining Hall
I am not ashamed to admit that I had a meal plan all four years of school. I'm no Gordon Ramsay, not even Guy Fieri. My idea of cooking dinner is putting precooked frozen chicken in the oven. So I had seven meals a week dedicated to Shaw Dining Hall.
More often than not, this was also a time when one of the people I lived with would say, "Guys what the fuck happened last night?" After picking up omelets, bacon, and an assortment of carbs, we'd head back to the house and to piece together the prior evening's activities. And like the final scene of The Usual Suspects, it all comes together for us how our night ended. The reactions would fall anywhere from delighted to disgusted.
Chuck's Happy Hour
At the end of last semester, reality set in: employers look at Facebook. I untagged myself in about 75% of the pictures I was in on Facebook. With that, I also had to get rid of my "guns-a-blazing Beer Olympics" profile picture, for a more conservative pic of me at the Great Wall. That day, a little piece of me died inside.
There's still more to look forward now that college is over. Paychecks on the reg. Networking on the reg. Good times on the reg. But never again can will I be able to throw mash potatoes at a KFC worker and get away with it. College, mi amor.