It seems like yesterday that I walked into Philosophy 101 at 8 a.m. on a Monday morning in late August of 2000. Somehow, someway, I stepped into some sort of time warp that has taken me to the year 2003. It's just so hard to believe...
But let's cut the mushy crap. I am a senior at the University at Buffalo, and next year at this time I may very well be participating in this so-called "real world" that I hear so much about. This can only mean one thing: A new crop of students that I last remember seeing as wee little freshman in high school have taken over UB, and some local trailer parks (my heart goes out to you), and are now the future of this fine institution.
So for this first edition of the fabulous Spectrum, which you will all come to love and cherish every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, I have decided to step out of my role as the Senior Sports Editor to lay down a few ground rules for all you wacky freshman who were going absolutely bonkers this past weekend after your first dose of freedom.
No, this isn't one of those "make friends" and "get involved" speeches that I know you must have heard about 18 times from the monkeys in charge of making those kinds of speeches. This is the truth. This is about life. And most importantly, this is how you will survive at UB.
This first rule is probably the most important one of all here at this University. Do not puke on the drunk bus in the dead of winter. The drunk bus driver is not the man to mess around with. You know if a guy doesn't like it when you eat on his bus, then he most definitely will be livid if you vomit on it. The drunk bus driver has, and will, kick you off in the middle of Millersport highway in January if he sees you regurgitating Sal's on the way back to school at 2:30 in the morning. And let me tell you, that is not a fun walk home in the middle of the night. Let's not forget about the profanity-laced tirade he will direct at you, either. It can get real nasty. My favorite was when he said "Get off my bus you ****ing ****sucker." Classic.
At some point in college you will learn that life is all about free stuff. So take it. Whether it is a free meal in the Student Union or that plastic tree in the dining halls that will look cool in your dorm room, feel free to indulge. This also includes the t-shirts that the dude in the Commons gives you when you sign up for a credit card. But the key to that exchange is not signing up for the credit card. So make up a name! I like to use Billy McDungeon, Isaac Vanderjagt or Brian Tuesday, but that's just me.
Don't believe everything that your student government has to say. Sure they seem like swell people, but after all, they are the government, and they are politicians, so lying is generally second nature. I remember the big thing during my orientation was telling us that they were going to bring in any band we wanted. So of course the masses at that time went wild with dreams of Dave Matthews Band and Limp Bizkit (ugh), but when Blessed Union of Souls came to town, those hopes were dashed. They also brainwashed us into believing that "Ball State sucked." When Ball State came in and romped us, we just sat and stared blankly like the Kung Fu guy outside the Union.
Another strike against SA came at the end of last year when they went above and beyond their usual hijinx and somehow got the TWO campus publications, which were previously destined to be arch-enemies for life, to team up and write a joint editorial. Freshmen will probably not understand the importance of this event, but The Spectrum and Generation teaming up was like Peter Pan teaming up with Captain Hook, or the Super Nintendo and Genesis fans of 1995 joining forces. It may even be on par with Calista Flockhart eating a chicken finger sub.
Ah yes, that brings me to my next point. Chicken finger subs. Hot Sauce. Blue Cheese. Chicken. Is there anything better? You can use that crazy campus cash to grab one at the Sub Shoppe in the Commons, or if you're really brave, get one at Bert's from those three wild men who fire up the grill.
Wash your damn sheets you smelly fools.
Don't get the full meal plan. I can't stress this enough. Unless you're a Richmond dining hall super freak, and you can't get enough of yesterday's Beef Stroganoff (which doubles as today's taco meat and then resurfaces as tomorrow's sloppy joes), then 14 meals is really unnecessary. Plus, there is always that unsolved mystery as to where all those unused meals go. Well I'll tell you. They go into the UB abyss. Which, surprise, surprise, is the same place where all the money for those parking tickets that you have to pay go. Whenever you park for 32 minutes in the Commons, or in a half full faculty lot, UB hits you up for $20 so some fat cat can buy himself another Tasmanian Devil tie.
Another thing. Freshmen, please don't drive to campus from the dorms. It's moronic. Now, I know that you don't understand the bus system yet, or you haven't realized that it takes 10 minutes to walk to campus, but please stop it right now.
Be cool at PJ Bottoms, or La Boom or wherever the hot place that you are drinking underage is. Everyone else there is underage too. Your chalked ID will work - hell, a bus pass to Penelope Rothstein's house from fifth grade will get you in that place.
Beer Pong and Bodegas. They are your friends and will be throughout your career at UB. Cherish them, love them and honor them.
Try to open the door that leads to those fancy rooms behind the glass in the hallway in Norton by placing your thumb in the James Bondish thumb reader thing (is there a scientific name for that thing?) at least once while your at Buffalo. It can't hurt, and who knows, maybe you're "the one".
Don't forget to always complain about the prices of your textbooks. You have to, it's mandatory, and I actually think that that is a real rule here at UB.
Never use dryer No. 7 in Red Jacket. Trust me on this one. It wasn't pretty.
Finally, here are the three final rules you need to survive at UB. Make friends, get involved, and for the love of God, towel that door.
