This is the story of Homecoming.
There is a sign in the bathrooms in Berry that reads, "The bonfire is a Dartmouth tradition... Getting wasted isn't." I guess somebody decided to release a memo because we forgot about that for the past three years. Thanks, somebody. I'll keep it in mind.
There is one Homecoming tradition: The Bonfire. It's cool, I guess. I had to run around it 112 times. I was told that it was about six miles. It was probably the most exercise I'd done in a year at the time. I never plan on running for that long again.
The fire is more fun for upperclassmen than it is for underclassmen. We get to mess with people. Sophomore year my friend was high and spent half an hour on the phone with his mother. Junior year a different friend was arrested for throwing ice at freshmen. So wistful.
The rest of Friday night is usually okay. There is a pretty high probability that you will enjoy alcohol responsibly. Actually, I wouldn't know. My interviewer gave me a probability question today. He was holding a copy of my resume with an informational print-out about second round interviews stapled to the back. While I was explaining my answer to him, he tore off the print-out and threw it in the trash. That's 200 grand on a B.A. in mathematics well spent, I'd say.
I think some sports teams play on Saturday. I wouldn't know, I've never gone. In the past, I've spent most of Saturday at the Hop. I'll usually stay until five or so. Not doing anything in particular. Just kinda watching people get there and guessing whether they're having breakfast or lunch. It's always breakfast.
There is also a pretty high probability that on Saturday night you will enjoy alcohol responsibly. It is usually raining in one of the basements on campus. It is usually Heorot. You will be able to taste the sweat, beer and vomit in the air. It is an acquired taste, but one that you should cultivate. It shows that you are worldly.
When you wake up on Sunday, it will be dark out. Probably. Not because it's particularly late, but it's Sunday so the weather will have gone to shit. There will be work to do. You won't do it. It's Homecoming weekend. What's the point?
You should probably send a couple of blitzes. Damage control. But, again, what's the point? They were Homecoming hook-ups. Not like they matter. They just kinda happened. No biggie.
You should probably say you're sorry. You'll feel miserable if you don't. But sometimes you just don't want to. Instead, you'll pretend that nothing happened. It's easier. You can just say that you were blacked-out. Getting wasted may not be a tradition, but most traditions don't correspond to reality. And, honestly, regret is the most esteemed tradition following a big weekend. Lest the old traditions fail...
