Off-campus: Other Nightlife

If you don't feel like going to the mainstream bars and clubs, you are a completely rational person and no one will question your logic. There are many other places where you can spend your Friday nights, and thankfully none of them require you to wear a Lacoste polo with the collar turned up.

The Indie Music Spot

Chances are there's actually some good local music to be had here, but you will have to very patient while you wade through rivers of shit first. It is perfectly acceptable to yell, "Hey douchebags, stop murdering my ears with your originals and play that cover of Cage the Elephant again". Another reason to go to one of these places is for the rocker chicks. Because as we all know, there is nothing hotter than a girl with pink streaks in her hair and a Led Zeppelin shirt that's two sizes too small... *drool*

One of the downsides of going here is that you will likely have to deal with the under-18 crowd. Yes, those people. The high school guys are all mop-top idiots who think they're cool because they smoke and know four strings of guitar. And the high school girls will only be interested in you if you're in the band, or if you're 21 and willing to buy them beer (it's not worth the risk fellas, really).

The Hookah Bar

Your new friends may suggest that you pay $15.95 a person to go suck flavored tobacco out of tubes together, and no, this is not a euphemism for something else. These places attract a certain kind of clientele, particularly the pseudo-hippie, left-leaning types. So if you voted for McCain don't bother showing up if you want to smoke in peace.

Drunk Bowling

If you live in a college town, there's probably a place that offers 99-cent drafts and laser bowling. You will quickly find that these two things do not go together well when your low score puts President Obama to shame. These places also attract a sizable non-student crowd, so you will likely encounter Joe Six-Pack and his buddies getting drunk. Hint: when they call you "college boy", it's not a compliment.

The Midnight Showing

College students are fond of heading en mass to see the first showing of the latest blockbuster piece of shit like Transformers or G.I. Joe. At the ticket counter, they will whine how the theater doesn't give a student ID discount, even though two-thirds of the town's residents are college students and this would be a stupid business practice. Once inside, they will sit in the front row and let out witty quips like "take it off" during the entire movie. They will also sneak alcohol into the theater, possibly out of an attempt to make Wolverine Origins more bearable.

Post-Grad: Med School

Average first-year in med school

Many undergrads chose Pre-Med as their major out of their own unrealistic ambition or at the urging of their parents. They were laughed at by their peers, and by sophomore year they had flunked their way into something easier like Sociology or English.

However, the people before us now are the precious few who clawed their way into medical school, and they'll let you know they damn well earned it - they had to retake Organic Chemistry twice and blow their professor for a rec letter to get here.

Course Offerings

Does the med school building have more than one story? If so, make sure you look up when passing by, because the entire class is on permanent suicide watch.

Med school is known for its brutal course load that is the intellectual equivalent of feudal serfdom. So why does anyone do it? Don't fool yourself with the Hippocratic Oath and the desire to help others - it's obviously because they aspire to become filthy, filthy rich, drive a BMW 7-series, own a yacht, and then finally lose everything after a series of gross malpractice lawsuits.

Social Life

Socializing in med school is limited to beers in between anatomy chapters and consensual pity groping between two desperate people.

Be careful who you make "friends" with, because the average med student will kill your entire family and your dog to move up one step on the class ladder. However, the brutal competition is ultimately all in vain, because one student is actually a supernatural cyborg built for studying and does not need sleep, food, or pleasurable release. And his last name is probably Patel.

The Campus Bookstore

Welcome to the campus bookstore. After spending an obscene amount of money on official NCAA clothing and eight textbooks, why not fill out a job application to help pay it off? While your cashier and future co-worker scurries off to find the hiring manager, feel free to leaf through Mother Jones or the other left-wing trash the bookstore peddles to students in its magazine section.

Nike Pro-Shop

You might be tempted to ask the employee behind the counter if you took a wrong turn and ended up in Sports Authority, but worry not - this is the bookstore. It's just that Nike or Reebok have a corporate deal with the school and the bookstore makes some serious Gs each month off of suckers like you.

Who wants a $75 throwback jersey from two decades ago when our team didn't suck? Oh look, a $27 pink baseball hat with the school logo for the girls, and a camo version for their boyfriends. Or maybe your dear old mother would like to advertise to everyone in the mall parking lot that she is indeed the "#1 Longhorn Mom" with a $34 license plate frame.

One-Stop Pharmacy

Some campus bookstores may feature a small pharmacy with such college dorm-room essentials like toothbrushes and deodorant. This is also the place where you can blow through your flex bucks on Plan B in a sweaty panic one night, because the bookstore sells birth control, hooray! If only your parents knew why they were putting more money in your student account, young lady. You will quickly realize, however, that you are truly paying a premium for convenience when everything costs 200 percent more than it would at Walgreens.

Textbooks

After picking up your game gear and school-colored condoms, you head over to the department where the bookstore actually gets its namesake.

Lo and behold, every other freshman is also enrolled in Biology 101, and to your horror there are no copies of the required text left on the shelf. You will go to the counter and badger the overworked student staff about the lack of books. You will be put on back order, which means you get to beg classmates to make photocopies of their books for the first two weeks of school. Finally, an employee goes in the back and digs up a hidden Biology book for you, possibly out of an attempt to shut you up, or maybe because you're a hot girl.

You will then discover that this book costs an outrageous $142 used and some jerk marked up half of it with six different highlighters. Then when the semester is over and you return to sell it back, they will tell you that they can only give you $30 because the book is in "poor condition". Or better yet, you will discover that the professor decided to change editions next year, which means they won't buy it back at all because 300 words might be different or something. During your fit of violent rage on an undeserving employee target, you might be unwisely asked if you would like to donate the book. The only appropriate response in such a situation is, "No you bastard, I would not, I want half its original value".


Well, consider this semester a costly learning experience. From now on, you will simply buy and sell all of your books on Half.com and get your team T-shirts from the local Walmart.

Off-campus: Bars and Clubs

The best four years of your life

You've eagerly awaited college so you can finally go out whenever you want and make poor decisions without having to explain them to your parents. So after your folks wave a tearful goodbye, you round up the freshmen from your floor and head out to the club. Many hours later, after you avoid the campus police and stumble back to your dorm reeking of beer and cigarette smoke, you realize that the whole experience might be greatly overrated.

A Typical Night Out

After putting on your designer clubbing clothes that will soon be covered in beer, you head over to your friend Ryan's house to pregame. Once there, you meet up with three other guys dressed exactly like you. Your posse for the evening also includes someone we will refer to as Ms. Jaded Girl. This fine young lady has seen it all and done it all, and is consequently burnt out at the ripe old age of 22. She hovers from bar to bar with different groups of people, desperately hoping to find some bolt of lightning to strike her back to life, all the while lamenting the fact that four years of heavy liquor and sex with strangers has made her look old and tired. The crew tosses back energy drinks and Skyy vodka, and cheers enthusiastically when Ryan blows 0.20 on his pocket breathalyzer.

Once everyone is buzzed enough, you head out. Large amounts of time will be spent walking from venue to venue and waiting in line, because everyone apparently has ADHD and cannot stay in one bar or club for more than 30 minutes. The college bars you go to are filled with bros, and every single one is suddenly your best friend after he's had enough shots. People who would never acknowledge your presence sober will have no problem draping an arm over you and talking uncomfortably close to your face, as the combined smell of chew and Bud Light destroys your nostrils. Ryan hits 0.30 and goes to the bathroom to throw up.

You spend half your visit standing elbow-to-elbow with dozens of other people trying to get a drink at the bar, sweating buckets and wondering if the club is violating fire code. The bartenders at this venue are all guys, meaning they won't pay attention to you for at least 20 minutes because you don't have breasts. Around this part of the evening you might start thinking, "Wait, how is this fun?" When Brock McRoidson finally gets around to your Amstel Light, he looks miffed at your fifty cent tip. It is perfectly acceptable to tell him, "Listen 'bro', I'm not giving you a $1.50 for opening my beer, it takes two seconds".

The girls are putting on quite a show of T&A tonight, but before you get excited, unless you're man meat they're probably not interested. Chances are you and your buddies will do nothing and just huddle at a table, pointing out the girls and saying to each other, "she's a 6 out of 10, tops", "she has no butt, but I'd still hit it", and other things that would make mom proud. Then after an hour and a half of playing wallflower and building your liquid courage, you decide to try your hand at talking to the ladies. You quickly discover that the average club girl has an attention span of a mosquito on crack. Not that it matters; no one can hear you over the ribcage-vibrating FLO Rida (feat. T-Pain) anyway.

Then you're finally successful in keeping the attention of one young lass who is clearly drunk. Despite the fact that your "conversation" lasted all of five minutes, two of which were grinding, she gives you her number. You return triumphantly to your table and are greeted by high fives and fist pumps. However, the celebration is cut short when Ryan vomits again, this time all down the front of his shirt.

The club closes at 2 am thanks to a city ordinance voted into place by fascist geezers who don't want college kids trashing downtown until sunrise. The other guys leave to go to an apartment after-party where they will likely watch Ms. Jaded Girl hookup with some guy on the couch. You are stuck with dragging Ryan home, who just blew 0.38 and by all accounts should be dead.

The Aftermath

The next morning, as you nurse a raging hangover, you question why people do this every Thursday through Saturday night. Then you remember - because everyone else does it, and they don't want to be considered losers. After all, television and movies told you that these are supposed to be the best years of your life and you've got to party it up.

You decide to call the girl from the bar to see if she's going out again tonight. She doesn't pick up or call back, which is understandable because she has absolutely no clue who you are. The only person who calls you is Ryan, who announces that he crapped the bed while passed out. But don't worry, he'll still meet you at Whiskey Bar at 11:30 tonight.

The Stadium

Two loyal fans at their finest hour

After suffering through five days of mind-numbing classes, Saturday is finally upon us, and that means one thing: glorious, glorious football. Each season brings fresh hope to college fans everywhere, except of course for the Trojans, who have come to terms with the fact that USC will choke their way to the Rose Bowl once again this year after inevitably losing to an unranked PAC-10 team.

If you go to school in the South, it is likely that gameday has a rich tradition dating back decades. However, chances are this so-called "pageantry" has been largely lost, or dumbed down by the current generation into an excuse by the frat brothers to wear dress shirts and ties with shorts while drinking Natty out of red cups.

The Facilities

Most schools have a dry stadium, but college students will be damned if they're going to spend three hours sober on a Saturday. You will observe other students and discover inventive ways of smuggling liquor into the stadium, such as miniature flasks stuffed in underwear and Ziploc bags full of vodka taped to someone's chest. Or if your ticket is seat-specific, you might come in the day before and hide a 4-ounce bottle of Wild Turkey, but you run the risk that a groundskeeper will find it and take it to his poker night.

You will never, ever be comfortable at a game, because there are only two weather possibilities. Possibility A is that it is one billion degrees out with no cloud cover. Enjoy the festive school colors running into your eyes if you painted your face, and come Monday morning you won't be able to carry your backpack to class thanks to a blistering sunburn. Possibility B is that it is freaking pouring, meaning you get to watch the rest of the game on TV in the stadium tunnel. A white-out game increases the likelihood of possibility B to 95 percent, resulting in an amusing/erotic sight.

Let's hope you didn't wear flip flops gentlemen, because the men's restroom is two inches deep with piss. One wall is nothing but urinals an inch apart, or even worse, there's just a giant trough fixed to the wall that everyone pees in together. And the drunks rubbing elbows with you on your right and left will insist on talking about that last pass and giving high fives. Ladies, halftime results in a bathroom line that will lap the stadium. Twice. If you really have to go, you'll start handing out your number to random guys as a bribe to sneak you into the men's room.

The Fans

There are three types of people you will stand next to at the game:

1) The sorority girls. Ms. Tri-Delt and Ms. Gamma Phi are at the game in all their glory, sporting sun dresses, $200 cockroach sunglasses, and cute little stickers of the school's mascot on their cheeks. They will spend the entire time whining about the heat, texting, and asking what a false start means. They will take twenty-five pictures of themselves facing away from the field, all of which will be posted to Facebook so their friends know they were at the game. At the end of the first quarter, they will leave to go to a bar, which begs the question why didn't they just sell their damn tickets to someone who actually cares.

2) The drunk fat guys. These guys will insist on taking their shirts off and screaming in your ear at every given opportunity. They will armchair quarterback the entire game, hurling valuable pieces of advice like "throw the freaking ball" and "get him". They will know all the fight songs and get pissed if you don't sing along. There is a 75 percent chance they will get ejected from the stadium before the 4th quarter.

3) The alumni. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Alumni decided to sit in the student section, which means you get to hear stories about how much the campus has changed since 1947. Or if Mr. and Mrs. Alumni are a younger couple, you get to be embarrassed the entire game after dropping your fourth f-bomb within earshot of their five year-old son.

Finally, should your team suck and lose a lot at home, you will have the opportunity to witness the indignity of certain fellow fans cussing out their own team as the players head for the tunnel, even though those beer-guzzling assholes can barely run a quarter-mile without having an asthma attack.

The Quad

The Quad is a central place on most campus that you see the students lounging in the grass in all of those university brochures. And they do lounge, but what those brochures don't show you is the epic hellhole that the Quad becomes on a daily basis.

The Quad is traversed by most students on their way to class, but it's also where every dickwad with a cause comes to get in everyone's way and make them late for class. Many schools, especially in the South, feature one or more far-right Christian extremists preaching their hate speech with signs nailed to crosses or sung along to with a guitar. On your way to Chem 101, they will tell you that you are going to Hell because you are a fornicator. Then Mr. Neo-Fascist will attract a large crowd who vainly attempt to argue with him, and neither side realizes that they are blocking the way and pissing everyone else off.

Your Quad might also be blessed with artsy hippies peddling their beads, spirit catchers, and other garbage. And if you're fortunate, there will be Hare Krishnas. They will chant the same thing over and over while selling vegan-friendly food that smells worse than Indian takeout stuffed in a used diaper. And to top it all off, middle-class white kids who think they are anti-establishment because they wear bandannas and ride bicycles everywhere will stop to partake in the festivities. If you're lucky, they might even whip out a hacky-sack and accidentally kick it in your face.

When the time comes for student government elections, avoid the Quad at all costs. You will be bombarded by hundreds of damn fliers and petitions from every single student party and candidate. They will promise to increase student services and simultaneously promise to lower your activity fee, just like a real politician. Ultimately, all of this campaigning is a huge waste of time as the Greeks will win 90 percent of the Senate seats every semester because they threaten to beat their pledges if they don't vote. Almost no other students vote, because just like in American politics, it's your democratic right not to give a crap.

FYI: Bros. Like. This. Site.

As an incoming college freshman, you will inevitably be exposed to the pervasive "bro" culture. Depending on your IQ level and gender, you will either: a) despise bros, b) try to be a bro, or c) get banged by a bro.

It is in your best interests to become familiar with your future enemies/heroes/STD-givers. Thus, I recommend this informative blog.

Off-campus: The Coffee Shop

Second only to the library, the coffee shops near campus are a popular place for students to go and pretend to study.

A Case Study

Every one of these places will have a girl who's laid claim to a table with her psychology book, laptop, notebooks, and highlighters in six freaking colors.

She will then spend approximately 50 percent of her time on Facebook updating all 1,012 of her friends that she is at the coffee shop studying, 30 percent of her time texting, 10 percent of her time looking at tops on Forever21.com, and 10 percent of her time reading the same page in her textbook over and over.

Inevitably guys will show up at this coffee shop and notice said girl. Then they will either a) drink their coffee nearby and puss out, or b) engage in a pathetic attempt at conversation and then later make a request to be the girl's 1,013th friend on Facebook.

Where to Get Ripped Off

A student new to college might ask, "Where should I go for my coffee fix?" If you live in a college town like Athens or Ann Arbor, there will be approximately eight coffee places per block. Starbucks is the natural venue of choice for the average student. BTW, did you know their logo is a mermaid spreading her two tails behind her ears?

Liberal arts majors and "activist Annie" types will likely want to find a local mom and pop favorite that serves Fair Trade coffee, because they like to think they are helping Bolivian peasants by paying $1.50 more for the same thing.

The Library

Contrary to popular belief, studying is the least of anyone's concern here. Every day, hundreds of students converge upon "Club [insert library name here]" to see and be seen. Seriously, all this place needs is some $3 jello shots and a bouncer and we'd be set.

Need to type a paper on the computers? Good luck dislodging Ms. Zeta Tau from her Facebook. She's set up camp with her double-cream iced latte, biology book, iPod, and best friend.

Need to use a group study room? Sorry, there's a two hour wait. And when you walk by, those assholes are playing Pictionary on the dry-erase board. Whine all you want, they can't hear you.

The best part is that these people will later Tweet, "so tired... spent 6 hrs in the lib lolz" to add to your misery.

Of course, you could always go on Friday night when it's not so crowded. There's the added bonus of feeling like you're on a study abroad trip because Friday nights at Club Library are half-off for foreign exchange students.

The Dining Hall

In two hours they will be shitting their pants

Chances are your parents will be conned into buying you a meal plan during orientation by some spunky blond who goes on about the healthy food choices and diverse menus. It's all lies, and you'll be eating it three times a day for the next semester or until you get sick of it and just starting taking your meals at Moe's Southwest.

A Regrettable Feast

The food will be decent initially. In fact, it might even be good. But come mid-October you will wish your parents had given you that $1,500 to spend on Papa John's and Lunchables.

The pamphlets can scream organic fresh vegetables all they want, but more likely than not your food comes from Aramark or some other soulless food giant. When you sign up for a $7.59 all-you-can-eat buffet designed to feed several thousand students a day, you get what you pay for: pizza, pizza, and more pizza. Oh and taco night. There's a vegan-friendly corner? Enjoy eating mushroom burgers 6 out of 7 nights of the week, because these culinary geniuses only know how to make meatloaf and easy mac.

Any food worth eating will instantly result in a fifty-person line, and after you wait 15 minutes and notice the pork roast is getting kinda thin, you will give up and just go make yourself a PB&J.

Culinary Indifference

The staff will be a motley crew of fellow students and ex-McDonald's employees, neither of which knows how to cook. Your food will be burnt, undercooked, and drowned in spices to make up for its prepackaged blandness. And God forbid one of them should forget to wash their hands, because you just might vomit 11 times in twenty-four hours thanks to what the Student Health Center doctor called "food poisoning from fecal fluids".

Expect a revolving door of cooks and cleaning staff, because no one stays there long. If you're a guy there will likely be a smoking hot Spanish girl on staff who you ogle with your buddies and fantasize about rescuing from her $8 an hour job - that is, until she brings her three year-old to work.

Takeout

On the upside, you will get to see the curious sight of students stealing food they already paid for, employing simultaneously the most ingenious and ridiculous methods. We're talking about stuffing chicken nuggets into hoodies, "accidentally" knocking raw vegetables and entire loafs of bread into open backpacks, and squeezing ketchup into Ziploc bags. (Students are also fond of swiping great deals of bent silverware and chipped plates, as any trip to a dorm room will reveal.)

The Dorms

This is why you wear shower shoes

Your first exposure to real college life will be the dormitories, unless you are a commuter student who took the wussy route and lives with Mommy and Daddy. Many a college freshman is excited to live in the dorms because of all of the crazy crap they hear about. And crazy crap does happen, but what you don't hear stories about is the inane drudgery of living in the dorms.

Lodging

The standard dorm is a double, which means you and your new roomie have approximately 12 x 15 feet to share. This equals ZERO privacy. Those of you who were an only child or had your own room growing up will particularly suffer. You will have to watch when you fart, you will have to go to the bathroom to change your undies, you will live in constant fear that your roommate will suddenly walk in when you are doing something embarrassing like pleasuring yourself or watching Grey's Anatomy without a girl forcing you do.

Your furnishings include a desk with one or more drawings of a penis, a dresser with drawers that stick, and the required blue or purple curtains. Your single bed is twice as long as it is wide so the campus bookstore can scam you into buying special extra-long sheets.

On the plus side, the narrow ass bed provides a ready-made excuse for all of you who decide to be sluts/manwhores and want to kick out your partner after disappointing, drunken sex.

Lets hope you don't have 8am classes, because you will NEVER sleep soundly. There are always some assholes playing drunk Mario Kart next door or girls talking loudly on their cell phones in the hallway. And no matter where you go to school, the dorm doors will weigh 1000 lbs and slam with bone-crunching noise, and the dorm walls will be made of rice paper.

Shared Experiences

The communal bathroom on your floor will always have these three features: too few stalls, missing shower curtains, and for some inexplicable reason, a tub. Don't use the tub.

You will have numerous memorable first-time experiences in the dorm bathrooms.

Nothing says "freakin' awesome" liking having to run down the stairs with number 2 crowning in your pants because the toilets are all occupied on your floor.

Nothing says "what the hell dude" like finding the broski on your floor shaving his legs over the sink.

Nothing says "that's disgusting" like finding a milk carton full of piss in the bathroom the morning after everyone goes out.

Unsocial Events

Despite what your RA says, organized dorm socials are for losers. Your floor is having a Super Smash tournament? Expect the heavyset, glasses-wearing crowd who quote 4chan and drink Bawls. Your hall is having a Halloween party? Only the RAs and some timid, unattractive girls in kitty cat costumes will be there. All the cool guys and the hot girls are out getting hammered and getting citations for Minors In Possession.