Most important life skills can be learned at parties
By H.G. Miller
I
am supposed to be studying right now.
You know, poring over notes from class, reviewing important concepts and solidifying the knowledge base that will someday make me a productive member of society.
Man, what a drag.
I´m sure glad this is America, and I´ve got the freedom to avoid such excruciating expenditures of time (can you tell I´m an English major?). Yes, I should be studying right now. However, I find myself paying $4 for a cheap plastic cup and filling it with even cheaper beer, only hoping that the brain cells I kill contain no information I need for my test on Friday.
Oh yeah, it´s party time, all right.
Why should I spend valuable hours of my life cramming my head with information that will be useless mere weeks from now when I could be spending quality time with 150 friends I never knew I had? It´s called networking. I´m learning skills that will help me make valuable connections later in life.
I mean, I don´t think businesses today really appreciate the amount of teamwork students learn during these recreational outings. There´s a large amount of group coordination that takes place when lifting somebody upside down above a beer keg.
As the evening moves on, the crowd begins to dispense into smaller focus groups. My mind sails across the sea of intoxication and I realize that I haven´t heard a single word the guy in front of me has said. Much like classroom lectures, I find myself occasionally nodding off while internally pondering life´s bigger questions.
Who was it that came up with that Tickle Me Elmo doll, anyway? Some sick-o sticks a vibrator in a doll and now he´s rich. How does that work out?
Lubricating my social skills even further, I soon decide to actively participate in other conversations.
“Look, the Campanile is a giant penis. I´m sorry, but there´s something wrong with you if you don´t see that.”
Silence from the crowd, and only the cheap, imitation techno-dance music can be heard as I realize that maybe I should try that “thinking before speaking” thing again.
I am shunned.
Eventually, somebody passes around a cigarette that isn´t really a cigarette, and I find myself a comfortable patch of concrete to collect my thoughts.
Sure, my speech is slurred and I can´t see straight, but I´m having fun, right? Instead of a boring evening at home, I´m interacting with my fellow students in a healthy social atmosphere. The lamp post seems to agree, and I´m happy.
After a while, I feel brave enough to move about the crowd. Motivation comes from a bag of pretzels that I´m sure whoever lives here won´t mind me sharing. Before long, I´m the best friend of anybody with a low tolerance.
Perhaps the most sobering moments occur during these conversations with highly intoxicated people. I, myself, am looking forward to unemployment after college, but I´d rather not find out that the guy who keeps saying he loves me is going to be a doctor someday.
I´m just waiting for the time I need my appendix taken out and the man with the knife says, “Hey, you were the guy with all the pretzels. Whew, I can hardly remember that night. In fact, there´s a lot about college I don´t remember. Ha, ha, ha.”
Checking my watch, I see that the police are due to show up any minute, and once again, valuable work skills are to be put on display. “Yes, sir, we´ll turn the music down. Oh, it´s my roommate´s birthday. We´re only accepting `donations.´”
Tired and weary, I finally end my evening by finding my ride home. The group of designated drivers is never difficult to spot. They´re the only ones speaking in complete sentences.
And so the evening has ended. Soon enough, school, work and my body´s internal defense system will all make me pay for neglecting my adult responsibilities. But that will happen in the morning. For now, I make a sandwich, see what movies are on late-night cable, and maybe think about sleeping.
Miller is a Hutchinson senior in journalism.
