17 Jul 2006
On Saturday I went to Starkville for a T.A. reunion. I know.
Sometimes you think about things, yeah, I don’t want to go to that, and then you think, well, what’s-her-face and so-and-so will be there and maybe xyz will, too, and Alec Eiffel said he’s thinking about going, and so it sounds like it might be sort of fun. And then you drive for two hours and it turns out not to be all that fun, but you hang in there, and then you spend the night at an empty sorority house and then the next morning get dressed early and sneak away and are back at home by 10:30 am.
The only really fun parts were these:
1. I talked to an old professor for a long time and basically filled him in on 10 years’ worth of English department gossip that he had never heard. You know when you have a juicy story, but you never get to shock anyone with it because everyone already knows? Oh, it was so sweet to tell some virgin ears about who slept with whom and when and why and then what happened later. (Sidenote to anyone who ever slept with anyone in Starkville and thinks it’s a secret: sorry.)
2. Speaking of, my friend almost got laid but screwed it up by talking about postcolonial theory too much. How much do I love this story? A lot. The boy who was almost my friend’s layer turned to me 45 minutes into the postcolonial theory discussion and whispered, hey, sober girl, will you drive me home? Then there was a discussion about how even though I wasn’t drunk, I was the fun one. People: when there are single drunk girls around, the married sober lady should not be the fun one! Although I enjoyed that part very much. Especially because it was said in front of my friend upon whom the boy almost lay.
I think the main problem is that my friend has zero flirting skills. She doesn’t even know how to make fun of boys! And that is the easiest flirtation method. Her technique was to flirt just enough to lure the boy to the empty sorority house where we were all staying, and then ignore him completely and talk about postcolonialism. Make a note, ladies: that doesn’t work.