The road to middle class is paved with beer

Arizona Daily Wildcat

After all, isn't the college experience marked far less by such trivial things as classes, grades and research, and more so, by stopping the car on the way home from Nogales to puke on an unsuspecting horned toad?

Of course, it is! And who should know better about such things like killer parties where the last clear memory you had before waking up in Missouri wearing a wallpaper toga was a goat in lingerie with a peculiar smile on its face, than me? A creative writing major who has never been in the "in" crowd, was snubbed by all the cute girls throughout high school, and until he was 23 thought that "chugging" was only possible on a steamboat?

Not that I'm bitter. Not that I minded sitting at home, watching Star Trek while every other high school senior in rural Tucson and even from as far away as Cambodia was at the party so loud, extraterrestrial life forms called to complain.

Not that I felt inferior. Knowing every carbon-based life form ages 16 to 18 was there except me, who sat at home wondering where the cat was.

No, not me.

I liked solitude. Really, I mean it. I'm not just saying that because no one ever called me. Ever. I spent hours staring at the phone, sporting cobwebs as large as the Barcolounger, because I LIKED IT! I LOVED EVERY DAMN MINUTE, YOU DAMNED SOCIALITE FROM THE FIFTH PLANE OF HELL!!!!

But anyway, eventually I got invited (probably through clerical error) to parties, and I think they're an important part of college life. Probably. Actually, they seemed pretty unnecessary to me, but most of the people who say they're important are larger than me. They provide practical experience in the business world, as shown from this real excerpt from an interview I just made up:

PERSONNEL MANAGER: I see here on your application that you studied at the U of A in higher applied quantum mathematical business theory with a grade point average of one billion. Sorry , but we don't need anyone like that. But wait!!! It says here you also bought Budweiser by the half ton! You're in!

APPLICANT: Dude!!!

PERSONNEL MANAGER: (cracking open a beer) Here, put on this lamp shade and take off your pants. There's a party in 5 minutes.

There are other advantages to college besides the parties. No, really. I mean it. Stop sniggering.

For instance, there's the opportunity for gratuitous sex (got your attention back, didn't I?). And let's be honest, this is your last chance to enjoy it. Because in five years, you'll be just as pathetic as your parents. Think about it. When your parents were your age, they were probably in the back of a van so brightly painted it needed a contrast control, smoking so much pot they had to wear diving masks to be able to see through the smoke, only dimly aware of the fact they hadn't showered (or worn pants) for the last two months, listening to Jimi Hendrix so loudly their internal organs shifted positions every time Jimi hit the strings, and considering sleeping with people with names like Moon Sister and Cosmic Penis.

These are the same people you now see buying bran at bulk rate, trading in their old Volvos for newer Volvos, and having to buy music in the classical sections of the store.

We're going to be like that someday, no matter how much we say we won't. We can say "Uh-Uh! Not ME! I'm going to party until the day I die, and then have myself buried with a keg!!"

But it won't change anything. Someday, we'll meet that guy or girl who's just so cool, the one you asked for a date because he or she actually partied even harder than you, (as was demonstrated when he or she asked for a bottle of vodka and a straw to "warm up"), and we're going to have such great sex we to check the news afterwards to see if there was just an earthquake, and we're going to want it every day, so we're going to move in together, and we're going to need to pay for the apartment, so we'll get jobs, and then we're going to want a car that's more reliable so we can drive to Las Vegas and do all kinds of acts illegal in every other state, and so we're going to buy it on credit, and then we're going to need better jobs, so we'll actually start paying attention in class so we can get that better job, and we'll find ourselves skipping parties so we can study, and then we'll want a bigger house for no reason that made sense a year ago but seems like a dandy idea now, and so we'll work even harder to pay for that, and the next thing you know we're going to the doctor for regular prostate exams and listening to our kids tell us how damn boring we are.

So, enjoy it while you can. You can fight it if you want, but I'm resigned to fate. I'm buying a Volvo.

Chris Ribas is a creative writing sophomore and can be reached via e-mail at Chris.Ribas@wildcat.arizona.edu. His humor column for the intellectually challenged, Everyday Life, appears on alternate Mondays.