So the other day, a '13 who shall remain nameless for his own sake asked me what "the deal" was with Homecoming.
"There's like, a lot of big parties, right?" he inquired, the very picture of cherubic innocence.
I'd make a worst class ever joke (Hi, sister!) but I can understand where he's coming from. A big weekend must be seen to be believed. As I was a total dork in high school (yes, even more so than now), it was enough of a shock to transition to an environment where people actually hung out. I couldn't really conceive of a weekend where the bad decisions, booze and bro-ing out were somehow amplified. But hear me, oh ye naive freshmen you can only imagine what is coming.
Given the collective shitshow that is about to unfold, I thought it best to present my own Homecoming experiences as a series of disconnected flashbacks in order to set the mood. Listen and learn.
Scene, 2006: The Hyphen, immediately before the Freshman Sweep. There is face paint everywhere and we have instinctively reverted back to our floor-based 'schmobs. I am still clinging to this weird idea that nice girls don't drink illegal beverages and am stone-cold sober. Awkward. I make my first mistake by getting my entire face painted green and white, ensuring that my obligatory BONFIRE!!!OMG Facebook pictures are also awkward. (Go for the more discreet stripes on your cheeks, or if you're feeling daring, just man up and do the whole body.)
In terms of the bonfire itself: Safety and Security will ensure that you don't actually die, but you're still at risk of being trampled. Grab your 'schmob, link arms, and do the trampling yourself. (Yes, it is possible to get facetime in a gigantic teeming mob. Scream loudly every three seconds for maximum effect.)
Also avoid the outer edges unless you enjoy being on the other end of target practice: my '10 jersey has a faint peanut butter handprint on the back to this day.
Lesson: TOUCH THE FIRE!
Bonus Tip: Wash the peanut butter out of your hair if you're trying to get on table later.
Scene, 2007: Sigma Delta basement, working tap as pledge duties. A terrified cry comes down the basement stairs: "Alums in the house." Within minutes, the basement is full, and all of the beer is gone. *blink blink**##
Alums will also be present in frats. They may sketch on you. Try to get in a witty quip that you can send to Overheards.
Lesson: The real world sucks.
Bonus Tip: Hide some of the beer for yourself.
Scene, 2008: My futon, with DayQuil, Kleenex and bitterness.
Even in the pre-swine flu days, you were still at serious risk of contracting a deadly disease during Homecoming. Poor pong-related hygiene policies coupled with that bitch '03 stealing your Black North Face can knock you flatter than a morning game of champong. If you're medicated, hit up the late fall BBQs instead of the dance parties free food is a decent substitute for free liquor.
Lesson: If you're sober and still out, remember to take embarrassing pictures.
Caveat: It is possible to black out on DayQuil.
Scene, 2009: Senior year crisis hits. I had to write this column in advance, but I'm sure by the time you're reading this, I will have made multiple bad decisions.
Lesson: RAGE WHILE YOU STILL CAN.
