By far my favorite rush shirt on campus is one that reads “Characters Welcome.” Characters make the world an interesting place. They deserve to be recognized, even if they’re the kind we love to hate.
You may think that categorizing the tens of thousands of Aggies into five narrow categories is a bad thing. You may believe that boiling people down to two-dimensional stereotypes is a step backward for society. You may be of the opinion that labeling people breeds ignorance. Well, my miscreants, you may be right, but read on if you can stomach it.
First up are those hipsters. I hesitate to describe these folks because I don’t want to get them mixed up with indies or emos, but after asking around, my associates and I agreed that the word constitutes people who like tight pants, Delta of Venus and Vampire Weekend. They think that tea is the new coffee, and one of their utmost passions in life is the fixie bike. “I went to an American Apparel thrift sale once and it was like a hipster convention,” observed Butch Barry. Thick black-framed glasses that are not actually needed: check. Beanie that is not actually needed: check.
The screaming activist is another campus staple. I admire people who live for a cause, but some people crusade for causes just to crusade for causes. I don’t doubt that they believe in what they’re relentlessly hounding the administration/student government/other unfortunate souls for, but they tend to flirt with the term “mania.”
Decades of practice give them a definite edge and they will school your ass in an argument, whether it be over immigration laws or why you’re a consumeristic moron for holding a Starbucks cup. This being will continue tormenting ASUCD even after their term is over. It would be comforting to think that a peaceful serenity drifts over the campus on the dawn of their graduation, but it’s more likely that two new screaming activists will sprout up in their place.
Uptight RAs are the bane of many freshman existences. They take their jobs too seriously, believe that justice is being served when they write innocent residents up for having wheely chair races in the hallway and think that their Student Housing-given power makes them awesome.
Way back when, a bunch of us freshmen got written up by this RA who looked like Anthony Kiedis’ dealer. We told a string of inconsistent lies of how we all went to schools that weren’t Davis, and he couldn’t disprove us so he let us off the hook. I saw him on most of my DC visits for the rest of the year and he was in one of our discussion classes, but there was nothing he could do about it. It was pretty spiff.
Sometimes naïve young freshmen just want to party their socks off. Once in a while they transform into a frat rat, or someone who takes up a semi-residency at Frat House A. This is often but not always a girl; some frats have male groupies who just like to chill there. The frat rat usually realizes that she could be studying for the MCATs or something and retires by her junior year, but not before properly violating several of the brothers. A former frat rat and friend of mine notes that it’s all about getting in, getting out and getting on with your life before you and your crews earn a nickname.
Everyone knows a stoner genius. This person resides on a ratty old La-Z-Boy that reeks to high hell of weed. They have their friends alternate who’s going to deliver their Subway footlong for the day. Despite sitting on their ass most of the time, wearing the same shirt for days at a time, making it to class only for the midterm and final, their GPA is somehow double what yours is. If it wasn’t for the grass, this guy could be the next Steven Hawking.
Of course, this rundown doesn’t even come close to describing all the fine people of our fair university, but chances are you’ve met a couple of these.
If you have a test in two hours that you haven’t studied for and are looking for a way to further procrastinate opening your textbook so that you can cry later about how unfair the grading system is, take a look at “A brief summary of 99 percent of the people you will ever meet in college” group on Facebook. They’re far more descriptive, thorough and amusing than my schlock.
MICHELLE RICK thinks the runner-up rush shirt is “Party with Sluts.” She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.