We at Weekly Planet remember parts of our college years fondly. Other parts we remember not at all, and still others we'd like to forget entirely. First, college will enlarge your world and expand your mind. You'll learn stuff you never even thought about before and may never think about again. In fact, it may be the only time in your life that you're actually encouraged to think, rather than simply regurgitate, as in high school, or obey ridiculous and often conflicting and impossible mandates, as in most jobs. Second, you get to entirely re-create yourself. If you were a jock in high school, you might be a poet in college. You can change your name, change your hair, change your sexual orientation, change your major as often as you like until you find the one that fits you best. Third, of course, is the social life. You will be completely surrounded by tempting, young, horny flesh and a way-too-ample selection of booze and drugs.
This issue is dedicated to future, current and former college students everywhere. Your college years may not be the best years of your life — but they should be memorable.
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The Freshman's Guide to Campus Wildlife
By Scott Harrell
To the uninitiated, the college campus can be a wild and seemingly inhospitable environment. Strange new species roam the higher-education wasteland, unfamiliar and unpredictable. Those freshmen faint of heart or protected of upbringing won't know whether to mark their territory or play dead. But fear not: Noel Collins, that Marlin Perkins of the comic-book world, has sketched out some of the ecosphere's more common and easily recognizable wildlife for your perusal. Learn to identify 'em by sight, and your integration may yet be free of potentially lethal confrontations. Just remember — never feed anything you don't want to follow you home.
The Phish-Brah
—Dreadlocks (authenticity can be determined by scent)
—Longboard for sidewalk carving
—Leather thong necklace w/bag of something that protects karma, but doesn't absorb odors
—Pooch-gut by Ben & Jerry
—fake-key roach clip
—Cargo shorts featuring tear sustained at H.O.R.D.E. '96
—Birkenstocks
—Two-way pager funded by wealthy, happily divorced, prosecuting-attorney parents
NOT PICTURED: 2002 Land Rover Discovery; hot, rich, dumb girlfriend
The Phrat-Brah
—Backwards baseball cap, possibly "red" and "Yankees" in persuasion
—"Hard" look aping LL Cool J's confrontational nature, but lacking his obvious generosity of spirit
—Tattoos, generally of Greek letters and/or variations on the "311" logo
—Sublime T-shirt, because it's the law
—Up-to-the-minute Ebonics dictionary in back pocket
—Giant shorts hiding ceaseless predatory erection
—Intimidating physique courtesy of Midwestern genes, beer, subconscious desire to be ogled by homosexuals
—Two-way pager funded by textbook allowance
NOT PICTURED: Beastie Boys box set; Rufinol stash
The Get Up Kid
—Hairstyle one part James Dean, two parts Morrissey
—Blocky black glasses of no discernible prescription
—Tight, thrift-store T-shirt advertising obscure summer camp and last worn by roller-skating 14-year-old girl — note heart on sleeve
—Gaunt, frail physique courtesy of British genes, Crunch Berries diet, consistently dismal interior weather
—iPod crammed with bands you've never heard of, and Dylan
—Journal crammed with inferior adolescent poetry and a lengthy list of girls who laid him because of it
—Steve McQueen wore khakis — but not highwater khakis
—Vans of an older style no one else can seem to locate
NOT PICTURED: Exemplary report card; the other two guys in his band
The Technasian
—Frosted spiky tips "poking" fun at noble heritage
—Timeless Eastern features connoting sense of superior knowledge, inferior driving skills
—Subtly ostentatious, expensive button-up shirt at home in the computer lab, the boardroom or the rave
—Stylish, pleated chinos worn with studded "rock" belt — these guys could make parachute pants look hip
—Indecipherably dense textbook, jargon-packed manual, comic book that won't be cool in Tampa for another year and a half
—Huge, clunky shoes with tractor-tread soles reinforcing the notion that yes, these guys could make anything look hip
NOT PICTURED: Full scholarship with perks; disgraced traditional parents
The Women's Studies Major
—Hair modeled after favorite Sex In The City character
—Impressive theoretical knowledge of oppressed ethnicities/barely contained irrational fear of same
—Highly specialized mouth for tofu, arguments
—Outerwear by The Gap/underwear dismissed as repressive phallocentric convention — ironic, isn't it?
—Pamphlet detailing America's systematic economic devastation of Third World countries hanging out of $400 Prada handbag
—Sign protesting some fucking thing or other
—Miu Miu slides unsullied by inner-city asphalt
NOT PICTURED: Secret desire to play "Good Cop, Bad Whore" with Phrat-Brah; conspicuous lack of color among close friends
The L.U.G. (Lesbian Until Graduation)
—Well-conditioned, luxuriant mane pulled into ponytail through back of baseball cap
—Makeup painstakingly applied to give the appearance of being unmade-up
—Sports bra as top betrays hidden Gwen Stefani crush
—Athletic physique courtesy of softball, jogging, field hockey, scrambling to avoid the issue
—Carries no purse, in deference to attendant baggage
—Legs like a member of God's own swim team
—Toe ring reinforces earthy femininity
NOT PICTURED: Trail of bewildered broken hearts; pink triangle pin still in package (it was a gift)
The Back-to-Schoolmarm
—Hair modeled after Stefanie Powers of Hart to Hart
—Eyes wide with re-exposure to world outside kitchen/nursery/church
—Slight cleavage perspiration direct result of hot-young-guy-proximity factor
—Lime-green nail polish unexpected result of "girls' night out" with younger classmates
—Smart pants n' blouse combo
—Uncalled philosophy professor's home number ("In case you need some special attention") in purse
—Open-toe shoes she honestly believes are "wild"
NOT PICTURED: Overworked, inattentive husband; complete set of For Dummies book series
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Don't Pass the Bar
Here at the Planet, we would not pretend to issue a comprehensive overview of Bay area college bars. We're just not qualified. Which is to say, we're too old. However, we did dispatch our College Advisory Board (made up of recent graduates) to assemble a modest roundup of watering holes closely associated with three local campuses.
University of South Florida/Tampa Campus
The Greenery Pub & Grille
13740 42nd Street
Tampa 813-977-5992
Simple as this: The Greenery ranks No. 1 among USF watering holes. Located within walking distance of the university (across from Fontana Hall, smack in the middle of the sprawling Campus Walk apartment complex), The Greenery boasts solid bar eats — an array of grease-intensive appetizers, hot/cold sandwiches, burgers, pizza and the highly recommended Buffalo wings.
The predominantly female staff largely consists of cuties donning tight blue jeans and midriff T-shirts. There are plenty of cheap domestic brews on tap as well as imports and bottled beers. No liquor, but there's wine and a wide selection of pseudo-cocktails like Jim Beam & Cola, Sky Blue, Bacardi Silver and the like. By way of entertainment that doesn't involve simply getting sloshed and slinging game, The Greenery comes strapped with a pool table, dartboards, video games and a decently handpicked jukebox.
There are also multiple TV sets, including a strategically placed big screen that comes in very handy during pigskin season. The Greenery doesn't try to compete with Ybor for the weekend hook-up crowd, so they place their get-it-on nights right in the middle of the week.
On Tuesday evenings, 2-for-1 specials keep the place teeming with young bodies just a drink away from stumbling with you back to your nearby dorm room or apartment. Same rings true for Wednesday nights, when from 9 p.m. to 1 a.m. drafts are a whopping quarter and large pitchers a mere three bucks.
If you go your entire USF career and don't wake up one morning after a long night at The Greenery with your arm pinned beneath a body whose name escapes you — you sorely missed out on the college experience.
—Wade Tatangelo
The Tampa Brickyard
140947 Bruce B. Downs Blvd.
Tampa 813-971-1787
After several years of frequenting the friendly confines of hole-in-the-wall college bars like The Greenery and Beer Bellys, one might have the urge to imbibe alcohol in a more, ah, adult setting. That's when you venture to The Brickyard on Bruce B. Downs. The bar is a transitional watering hole where USF upper classmen ply their social skills with faculty members and their Tampa Palms superiors. Very classy by USF pub standards (which means it has working toilets and serves liquor), The Brickyard's daily 2-for-1 drink specials won't cause you to blow your entire student loan check in one sitting.
The bar is a wooden rectangle job that wraps around, surrounded by booths and tables located close to the action. There's also a dining area, but that's only where you go when you already have a date. (Incidentally, if you do choose to get your grub on at The Brickyard, the food is excellent, albeit a little pricey for student types.)
In short, The Brickyard is basically where coeds find out if they've got the goods to lure guys with real jobs, their own place sans roommates and new shiny cars that don't reek of weed 24/7. It's also where suave senior guys see if they've got what it takes to bed their sexy, librarian-glasses-wearing, fresh out of grad-school, Public Speaking professor.
—Wade Tatangelo
Cafe Beer Bellys
5016 E. Busch Blvd.
Tampa 813-9854850
Ever had the urge to make an utter jackass out of yourself in front of 1.) friends, 2.) college students and 3.) dirtball bar residents? If the answer to all three of those questions is yes, then Beer Bellys is the weekend spot for you. Karaoke is the main attraction at Beer Bellys. Sure, there's a pool table and video games and the bar serves cheap pitchers of beer and those fruity "malternatives" by the bottle, but the real fun of Beer Bellys is getting up on the small stage and belting out a tune or two, and watching your fellow amateurs do the same. But beware of those deluded individuals who take karaoke way too seriously; there are generally always a few at Beer Bellys, but the fun is in upsetting them with your God-awful version of "Beyond the Sea." Somewhere, Bobby Darin is spinning in his grave.
—Quincey Vierling
Bobalouie's
1913 Bearss Ave. E.
Lutz 813-971-1243
Da Bulls. Da Bucs. Football season is the busiest time at Bobalouie's, with its multiple big-screen TVs set throughout a room that's well divided. Be you a Bucs fan, a Packers fan or a Giants fan, during football season you'll find someone else at Bobalouie's sporting a wing-sauce-stained jersey similar to yours. (And there are other sports, including USF football and basketball, shown in the bar as well.) Fan clubs tend to be cliquish but friendly to interlopers. Thankfully for nail-biting Bucs and Bulls fans, Bobalouie's boasts a full bar. (Gulp. Ahh, I needed that after the last turnover.) The place also has karaoke nights and live music, and the food is pretty good. All told, hollering along with your fellow fans is really where it's at.
—Quincey Vierling
Copper Top Pub
5112 E. Fowler Ave.
Tampa 813-988-8656
Pool and Beer. Beer and Pool. Two cheap things that keep a college bar full. The Copper Top specializes in the basics, but that does not take away from the charm of this true college dive. The bar features a copper-plated bar surface, hence the name, and the games are reasonably priced. What more do you need to know?
—Quincey Vierling
University of Tampa
The Peanut Gallery
123 S. Hyde Park Ave.
Tampa 813-253-2771
After a long day of attending classes or taking bong rips while gaming in your dorm room, take a two-minute walk across Kennedy Boulevard to the Peanut Gallery and take advantage of their student budget-friendly drink specials. From 5 to 7 p.m. Monday through Friday, one can suck down 10-ounce mugs of Bud, Bud Light, Coors Light or even some Killians to the tune of just a buck a pop. The Peanut Gallery is the tiny, no frills, hole-in-the-wall college bar every campus should have within walking distance. Its decades-old walls and counters are decorated with snapshots of saucer-eyed UT students having a blast while getting thoroughly tanked, as well as tattooed dollar bills bearing names and slogans like "UT Swimming Kicks Ass." Tuesday night is ladies night ($1 drinks); on Wednesdays the same courtesy is extended to guys. Come visit Mr. Peanut for Monday Night Football and indulge in the same deal. Even if your parents loaded you up with plastic and a fat checking account, rendering drink specials no incentive, there are more memories to be made inside the small, smoky confines of the Peanut Gallery than you'll find in the sterile atmospheres of Tampa's swankier adult beverage establishments.
—Wade Tatangelo
Four Green Fields
205 Platt St.
Tampa 813-254-4444
www.fourgreenfields.com
Nestled in Tampa's Hyde Park district, one block west of the Convention Center and just minutes away from the University of Tampa, sits the city's preeminent Irish bar, Four Green Fields. No college education is complete without finding such a place (Bennigan's doesn't count, folks) to call one's own, to get acquainted with Irish Car Bombs (a lethal Guinness and whiskey concoction), make friends with some salty regulars and learn a few bawdy sea chanteys.
For the last decade, Four Green Fields' extensive beer and spirits selection, tasty eats, cozy hardwood interior and authentic thatched-roof exterior have made it the ideal setting for individuals from all walks of life to socialize while sipping some Harp, stuffing one's face with Irish stew or knocking back some shots of Dunphys.
The Galway-born cook also turns out genuine, highly recommended Irish dishes such as corned beef and cabbage, in addition to sandwiches and salads, from their full kitchen. On Wednesday through Sunday nights, international and local Celtic music acts, ranging from traditional to progressive, provide a lively soundtrack for the already festive atmosphere. There's never a bad time to drop in for a drink or a bite at this open-every-day-of-the-year establishment, but the vibrant Friday happy hour, which extends past midnight without a lull, is optimum.
—Wade Tatangelo
USF-St. Petersburg
Tavern at Bayboro
121 Seventh Ave. S.
St. Petersburg 727-821-1418
You won't find drunken frat boys making bets over keg stands at Tavern at Bayboro. What you will find are philosophical liberal arts students and nature-loving marine science students drinking import drafts on picnic tables only 100 yards from USF-St. Petersburg's library. The patrons at Tavern at Bayboro are a reflection of USF-St. Petersburg's student body: older (30s, gasp!), laidback and — OK, let's face it — wiser than the Tampa boys and girls toting Daddy's credit card. In fact, at Tavern at Bayboro, it's not unusual to see professors quaffing beer and wine with students as they share opinions on postmodern literature, political theory or red tide. Thursday and Friday evenings feature live music, usually acoustic offerings. Late afternoons offer an air show as Cessnas take off and land from the adjacent Albert Whitted Municipal Airport. Additionally, Tavern at Bayboro serves good cheap eats during the day.
—Trevor Aaronson
Lobby Bar
217 Central Ave.
St. Petersburg 727-896-3800
This brightly colored nightspot features pumping booty music and psychedelic furniture shaped like flowers, hands and stained glass windows. Nevertheless, a sign at the entrance describes the establishment as "an elegant martini bar." Hardly. The Lobby's trendy Manhattan aspirations fall flat, despite support from the stylish college-age set who frequent the darkened rooms. The drinks aren't bad, but they aren't cheap either. This is a place to see and be seen, to hear and be heard — which is interesting, because the lighting sucks and you can't hear yourself think over the music. Though the bar looks to have great potential for mingling, the Lobby strikes me as a standard pickup joint — even though you won't know what you're stuck with until after your hookup utters those magic words, "Wanna get out of here?"
—Diana Peterfreund
Emerald Bar
550 Central Ave.
St. Petersburg 727-898-6054
From the outside, the Emerald looks like a tired '50s-era bar most likely filled with grumpy old men and lifelong boozehounds. From the inside, the narrow room is downright kitschtacular. One wall is covered with avant-garde and populist art, another with sports memorabilia and neon beer signs. The back of the long room is occupied by the Emerald's third incarnation as an Irish pub, complete with inscriptions from the land of Erin and shamrock-green paint. On Saturday night, the place is filled with raucous, cooler-than-thou youth displaying multiple piercings and tattoos. Often a few of the Bay area's better original rock bands will perform. I hear that on other nights, the grumpy old men and barflies rule the roost. The staff is friendly and the drinks are nicely priced. And though the ambience is quirky enough for an evening's entertainment, the bar's piece de resistance is clearly the giant, rainbow-colored jukebox, which plays everything from cool jazz tunes to Whitney Houston to Englebert Humperdinck. If you're hip enough to roll with the joke, the Emerald is more than happy to welcome you with unconventional — but wide-open — arms.
—Diana Peterfreund
Eckerd College
Triton's Pub
4200 54th Ave. S.
St. Petersburg 727-864-8420
For Eckerd College students and faculty members (as well as anyone else looking to catch a buzz alongside some coeds), Triton's Pub is the ideal place for some alcohol-fueled decompression after a tedious day of erudite bullshit. This snug beer and wine watering hole is conveniently located smack in the middle of the waterfront campus, next to Fox Hall. Since opening last November, Triton's has offered various forms of entertainment by which to imbibe, including poetry readings and live entertainment (usually of the chick/dude-with-acoustic-guitar variety). And, if you're feeling a little froggy after getting sauced, you can bring to light your own latent musical talents at the 7:30 p.m. open mic jams held on Wednesdays (suspended during the summer but scheduled to restart in the fall).
—Wade Tatangelo
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Encyclopedia Pharmacopious: A Handy Guide to Drug Use
By Scott Harrell
Let's not beat around the bush: College is invariably a time of experimentation. Free of their adolescent constraints and riding an inevitable transition to adulthood, most students will find themselves exploring various side roads, availing one another of as-yet unrealized opportunities. Some will discover the joys of ethnic cuisine. Some will give homosexuality a shot. And some will ingest any and every consciousness-altering substance they encounter. Now we know that plenty of freshman arrive with a certain (and sometimes staggering) amount of experience regarding recreational drug use. But for those who haven't already scored a record deal or kneecapped their futures, allow us to present a brief introduction to a few of the most common campus highs.
ALCOHOL
WHAT IS IT? According to Homer Simpson, "the cause of and solution to all of life's problems"
WHAT DO I CALL IT? Booze; hooch; cocktails; road soda
WHAT ARE THE POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECTS? Hangovers, "bed spins," interventions
HOW DO I GET IT? Loiter at the local convenience/grocery store, keeping an eye peeled for likely contributors to your delinquency; briefly consider the classic "beer run," then start sleeping with someone who's 21 and codependent
WHAT DO I LISTEN TO WHILE COMING ON? Andrew WK; AC/DC; anything with guitars and lots of metaphors for getting laid
WHERE WILL I GO WHILE UNDER ITS INFLUENCE? Concerts; assorted public parks and fast-food restaurant parking lots; the bathroom, repeatedly
WHO WILL I HANG WITH? A staggeringly comprehensive cross-section of humanity, all of whom will eventually want to either hug or punch you
WHERE WILL I WAKE UP? A friend's couch; Vegas
WHAT MIGHT I REGRET? What you said, who you did
MARIJUANA
WHAT IS IT? The buds of a native nuisance plant that, when smoked or eaten, invert the average human's normal doing/thinking ratio
WHAT DO I CALL IT? Pot; weed; snoochie boochies, if you're some kind of idiot
WHAT ARE THE POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECTS? Impaired short-term memory; the gradual deterioration of food- and hygiene-related judgment
HOW DO I GET IT? Go outside your dorm. Close your eyes. Throw a rock. Anyone you hit knows someone who can get pot.
WHAT DO I LISTEN TO WHILE COMING ON? War; Parliament/Funkadelic; anything that fits the description "like 311, but good"
WHERE WILL I GO WHILE UNDER ITS INFLUENCE? The CD rack; the kitchen; the CD racks and kitchens of close neighbors
WHO WILL I HANG WITH? Kids who will revolutionize recycling procedure, write the great new American political manifesto, and form an awesome band … tomorrow. And one of their parents, probably
WHERE WILL I WAKE UP? In front of the TV; in class; in a ski hostel in Breckenridge, Colorado
WHAT MIGHT I REGRET? Nothing, so long as you never suddenly stop getting high and realize what year it is
VICODIN
WHAT IS IT? A painkiller composed of acetaminophen and the codeine-related hydrocodone, in pill form
WHAT DO I CALL IT? Vikes; breakfast
WHAT ARE THE POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECTS? Physical addiction; friends constantly asking you for Vicodin
HOW DO I GET IT? Arrange a little "alone time" with every bathroom cabinet you encounter; scam your family physician — the code phrase is "back injury"
WHAT DO I LISTEN TO WHILE COMING ON? Black Sabbath; any professor's "lecture voice"
WHERE WILL I GO WHILE UNDER ITS INFLUENCE? On blithely about your day, just don't drive
WHO WILL I HANG WITH? Your buzz will be the envy of your part-time co-workers
WHERE WILL I WAKE UP? Rehab, eventually
WHAT MIGHT I REGRET? Forging prescriptions; believing the guy who told you "you're pretty much doing heroin with that stuff anyway, so …"
LSD
WHAT IS IT? Lysergic acid diethylamide, a liquid hallucinogenic compound usually soaked into blotter paper or sugar cubes
WHAT DO I CALL IT? Acid
WHAT ARE THE POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECTS? Insanity; tie-dye
HOW DO I GET IT? Go to a jam-band concert. Close your eyes. Throw a rock …
WHAT DO I LISTEN TO WHILE COMING ON? Dark Side of the Moon; various Danny Elfman soundtracks; anything but the voices
WHERE WILL I GO UNDER ITS INFLUENCE? Tough to say, really, but it will be considerably farther than down to the corner for a Klondike Bar
WHO WILL I HANG WITH? Older philosophical types; younger wild-eyed types; God
WHERE WILL I WAKE UP? At the finishing end of a long voyage of profound self-discovery; in a chaise lounge by some stranger's pool, wrapped in a carpet
WHAT MIGHT I REGRET? Organized religion; taking acid
MUSHROOMS
WHAT IS IT? Psilocybin-suffused hallucinogenic mushrooms that came from either some aficionado's terrarium, or cow shit
WHAT DO I CALL IT? Shrooms; poison
WHAT ARE THE POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECTS? Nausea; stomach cramps; the realization that we are the imagination of ourselves
HOW DO I GET IT? By tromping through mushy fields full of grain-fed cows on muggy summer mornings inspecting feces for fungi resembling a tequila sunrise
WHAT DO I LISTEN TO WHILE COMING ON? Primus; the sound of your own regurgitation
WHERE WILL I GO WHILE UNDER ITS INFLUENCE? Into the lush, untamed jungle that was once your parents' back yard; a String Cheese Incident show
WHO WILL I HANG WITH? Other broke but enterprising students; some kids from Dunedin
WHERE WILL I WAKE UP? Dunedin; New College
WHAT MIGHT I REGRET? Eating beforehand
COCAINE
WHAT IS IT? A stimulant/anesthetic derived from the refined leaves of the South American coca plant
WHAT DO I CALL IT? Coke; blow; powdered asshole
WHAT ARE THE POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECTS? Bankruptcy; a life of crime; loss of appetite
HOW DO I GET IT? Attach yourself to the acquaintance who frequents either strip clubs or Disney World's Gay Day most often
WHAT DO I LISTEN TO WHILE COMING ON? Motley Crue's Girls, Girls, Girls; other people, for the last time
WHERE WILL I GO WHILE UNDER ITS INFLUENCE? Outdated nightclubs; your dealer's
WHO WILL I HANG WITH? Men and women who seem a bit old and creepy for "your crowd;" your dealer; your probation officer
WHERE WILL I WAKE UP? Your parents house, and 33; the passenger seat of a john's car
WHAT MIGHT I REGRET? Talking your dealer into "fronting" you; pretty much everything
ECSTASY
WHAT IS IT? Methylenedioxyamphetamine (or MDMA), a combination stimulant and psychedelic in tablet form
WHAT DO I CALL IT? X; E; beans; rolls
WHAT ARE THE POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECTS? Convulsions; death; abhorrent tastes in music
HOW DO I GET IT? Go to a rave. Close your eyes. Throw your wallet …
WHAT DO I LISTEN TO WHILE COMING ON? Crap
WHERE WILL I GO WHILE UNDER ITS INFLUENCE? Aveo II; Hyde Park Cafe; wherever the glo-sticks lead you
WHO WILL I HANG WITH? Folks whose oversized clothes and huggy nature make them seem younger than they are; irritatingly affluent professionals who consider themselves "edgy"
WHERE WILL I WAKE UP? In a body that feels about 68 years old
WHAT MIGHT I REGRET? Soul-kissing your girlfriend's little brother
METHAMPHETAMINE
WHAT IS IT? An extremely powerful stimulant, usually in crystal or powder form
WHAT DO I CALL IT? Meth; crank; crystal; the shit that ruined your life
WHAT ARE THE POSSIBLE SIDE EFFECTS? Paranoia; that thing where your heart explodes through your chest
HOW DO I GET IT? Cautiously befriend that guy down the street who's always working on his Camaro at four in the morning
WHAT DO I LISTEN TO WHILE COMING ON? Metallica's Kill 'Em All; Metallica's Ride the Lightning; Metallica's Master of Puppets; anything by Metallica, really
WHERE WILL I GO WHILE UNDER ITS INFLUENCE? Basements; high-speed pursuits
WHO WILL I HANG WITH? The mullet crowd; those for whom caffeine was a gateway drug
WHERE WILL I WAKE UP? Sleep is no longer an option. Enjoy.
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'Trading Spaces' Redux
After watching a three-hour Trading Spaces marathon, two sets of roommates — John and Tony, Jen and Suki — decide to re-create the show. Typically, two neighboring couples exchange house keys and spend two days and $1,000 transforming a room in each other's home. Our coeds decide upon a five-hour time limit, pool $13 and swap keys to the only rooms they've got. And having never ventured inside the other pair's doorway, the roomies depart from the common lounge on the third floor of Beta Hall, inspired to redecorate with vigor and spontaneity.
2:08 p.m. — Jen and Suki enter the guys' room to find a scene like Jackson Pollock might've created had his media been soiled casual wear. They stuff the clothes in biodegradable trash bags and stow them in the room's built-in closets. Beneath the mess, they discover the standard issue dorm furniture: two chests of drawers, two beds, two desks, two bookshelves and two chairs.
2:10 p.m. — John and Tony hustle up a flight of stairs, passing the fourth floor R.A., Debbie, on the way, and barge into the girls' room. Thereupon they debate which girl is hotter. Tony openly pines for Jen, a nursing student whom he swears looks best in her teal scrubs, V-neck tunic and NurseMates clogs. John argues that Suki has "that whole sexy Asian girl thing."
3:45 — The girls investigate the boys' drawers and find them full of miscellaneous goods: PowerBars, a grip exerciser, packs of ankle socks and tighty whities, a deflated football, a Hacky Sack, back issues of Popular Science and Hustler, multivitamins, Ginsana capsules and a dog-eared copy of The Multi-Orgasmic Man by Mantak Chia.
3:56 p.m. — The fellas raise Suki's bunkable bed and John, an engineering major, slides Jen's futon underneath. The room being a standard 11 by 14 feet, he measures the futon at 32 inches by 67 inches and determines the increase in floor space to be "a fuckload more than before." This bit of heavy lifting completed, they take a break to examine the contents of the girls' dressers.
3:59 p.m. — Tony finds Jen's diary beneath a jumble of jog bras.
4:00 p.m. — While Tony is distracted with the diary, John sniffs one of Suki's thongs.
4:31 p.m. — Jen and Suki push the boys' dressers back to back in the middle of the room and place their TV on top along with their laptops, Playstation 2 and CD boom box, creating something of an entertainment console.
5:03 p.m. — John points out that they've wasted the past hour reading through Jen's diary. Tony reminds him they have the girls' permission to be in here, then double-checks to make sure the door is locked. From the diary, they've learned little more than that Jen thinks of herself as "the most interesting person in the world" and misses her boyfriend back home in Columbus, Ohio.
5:22 p.m. — Suki shelves the boys' textbooks along the ledge of the room's only window, using Tony's 25-pound dumbbells for bookends. John's physics texts appear unopened. The complete works of Vladimir Nabokov, belonging to Tony (major: undecided), are full of doodles of girls with pigtails and knee socks.
4:31 p.m. — Since the boys' have bunk beds, Jen decides they have plenty of room left to organize the clothes in such a way that encompasses the space, as it seems the boys prefer experiencing the clothes to storing them. So they steal milk crates from behind the dining hall and set up sock crates, T-shirt crates, jeans crates, etc. Each crate is given a good spray with Lysol disinfectant.
5:34 p.m. — Tony guiltlessly puts the diary back and joins John, who has begun stenciling a waist-high border of hearts around the room using the girls' nail polish for paint.
6:05 p.m. — With a few feet left to stencil, the last bottle of nail polish runs out. John and Tony walk to the CVS off campus and buy a bottle of L'Oreal enamel, Frolic 112. Cost: $4.99 plus tax. They shoplift a roll of party streamers and spend the remainder of their allotted $6.50 on gumballs.
6:20 p.m. — Suki, a math major, calculates the number of magazine pages it would take to cover the broadest wall of the boys' room. Jen, meanwhile, clips out select images from the boys' magazines with the precision of an EMT removing bandages. They, too, walk to the CVS to buy five rolls of clear Scotch tape. Cost: $5.95 plus tax. The remaining money they drop in a March of Dimes donation tub.
6:47 p.m. — The boys lose precious time (three minutes) being hassled by Debbie, the girls' R.A., who summons them to her room, sits Indian style on a saggy bean bag chair and tries to ascertain whether they're breaking any safety codes.
7 p.m. — Decorating stops. All smiles, they rendezvous back at the lounge and eagerly go together to inspect one another's handiwork.
John and Tony are shocked to find an altar to their multimedia fetishes erected in the middle of their room. The wall opposite their bunks is taped over with a glossy collage of vulgarly posed women and state-of-the-art gizmos. Randomly placed throughout the room stands a veritable art installation of stacked milk crates and their dirty clothes. The room is a radical improvement on the boys' Pollock concept, and deeply gratifies the girls' own artistic sensibilities. Words cannot express the boys' gratitude. Instead they whoop and fist bump and slap the girls on the ass.
Jen and Suki decide to enter their room with eyes closed, as it's done on Trading Spaces. Upon opening their eyes, their expressions change uniformly from horror to fake-smile optimism to forlorn grief. Pink crepe paper party streamers run from the four corners of the ceiling to the central light fixture. Strung from the streamers are articles of their slinkiest underwear. Upon realizing that half of the room's stenciled hearts match the shade of their own toenails, they begin to curse the folly of buying into the seamless ease with which professional home decorators act out their talents on TV. At the sound of the girls anguish, Debbie comes in and promptly pronounces the streamers to be a fire hazard.
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Top 10 Annoying Acts Perpetrated by Professors (and How to Cope with Them)
By Wade Tatangelo
After spending six years and attending two different community colleges and a university in search of a bachelor's degree, I have had the pleasure of dealing with some real prick professors. Here’s my personal list of the 10 most annoying acts perpetrated by higher-learning instructors. I’ve also included advice on how to cope with their dastardly practices.
10. Takes Attendance
Mandatory attendance in college is downright patronizing. You, the student, are an adult and you know (or should know) whether you can handle the material with or without the guidance of your professor’s lecture. "It’s not fair for the other students, who do come to class every day," is the standard retort a professor will give to justify the practice. That is bullshit. Why the hell should you get points shaved off at the end of the semester because you decided to sleep in a couple of days? Especially when you bagged an A on each exam. Because your professor is an egomaniac and needs a captive audience to yammer at in order to get his or her jollies.
Advice: If the class is in a big lecture hall, your professor most likely will pass the roll sheet around and have students initial by their name. Find a fellow student who plans on attending religiously and ask/coerce/pay him/her to initial for you. If it’s a small class where the professor actually knows your name, a doctor’s note is the only way to get out of having absences count against you. Make friends with the family doctor –- this also comes in handy when asking for Vicoden refills.
9. Masticates in Front of the Class
OK, it would be worse if the wrinkled old bastard were masturbating in front of the class, but gazing at a chunk of tuna dangling from a wiry mustache is pretty disgusting too. I haven’t had many professors engage in this, but one guy, who looked to be older than George Burns’ father, was always chowing down in front of the class. It nearly made me puke, particularly when I was coming in with a hangover.
Advice: Keep your head buried in your textbook or a good magazine for the duration of the class.
8. Flirts Incessantly with Coeds
Unfortunately, I have never had a female professor who was guilty of this, but I’ve witnessed droves of dirty old men whose main reason for taking a job on campus was to try and fornicate with females a fraction of their age.
Advice: Ladies, this is a no-brainer. You don’t have to put out to weasel an A out of these jack-offs. Just smile, sport some cleavage or short skirt while entering his office a day before grades are due. Guys, act like you’re in awe of his Don Juan abilities or else he’s gonna slam you.
7. Humiliates Students
Some professors really get off on making their students look and feel like fools in front of their peers. You walk in late for class because you got a flat on the way there, and the professor stops the lecture to thank you for "gracing the class with your presence." You could easily quip back that the honor is all yours or something, but you do so at the peril of flunking the class.
Advice Keep your mouth shut and smile because you know this man’s behavior is the result of a diminutive penis. Of course, all women who act this way suffer from penis envy.
6. Insists on Pop Quizzes
It’s the morning after a long night of $1 drink specials at the Green Iguana in Ybor City and upon stumbling into class you hear "Class, clear off your desk; we’re having a pop quiz." As if taking a test you’ve had time to study for isn’t difficult enough, some hard-ass prof has to piss on you with a pop quiz at 9 a.m. while your blood alcohol level is still higher than your GPA.
Advice Cheat. Usually these quizzes are quick one-word answer deals administered orally by the instructor. Glancing at the smart girl’s paper catty-corner to you shouldn’t be too difficult.
5. Inflated Ego Resulting in Self-flattering Personal Anecdotes and Elitist Rants
If your professor graduated from an Ivy League school or just about any private school north of the Mason-Dixon line, chances are they’re going to remind you of its prestige more often than they write on the chalkboard or slip into an affected British accent. These are the same types who feel compelled to inform you what annoyed them that morning while they were waiting in line at Starbucks. They’re also the ones who go on 15-minute tangents about the decline of Western civilization; speak of how MTV and capitalism are the root of all evil; carp about their salary; won’t go see a film that isn’t screening at Tampa Theatre. They also quote Jaques Derrida a lot and berate any individual who can enjoy a Budweiser while watching Caddyshack. Oh yeah, and you can bet next semester’s tuition check that they will tell you about the book they’re writing at least once week and their struggle for creative control with the publisher.
Advice After your professor’s told some smug, pointless anecdote or wrapped up yet another superfluous rant, he will always scan the classroom in an attempt to make eye contact with a sympathetic pair of peepers. When the professor gazes in your direction, bug your eyes out and nod like a madman, as if what he just told you was the most mind-blowing thing you’ve ever heard. Trust me; you’ll find the reaction painted across your professor’s face amusing.
4. Monotone Delivery
As far as professors go, a flamboyant asshole is better than a bore any day. Nothing will leave you contemplating jumping out that third-story classroom window quicker than an instructor with a delivery as dry as a three-week old turd. It doesn’t matter if your professor is reading porn; if he’s got that robotic, drone thing going on, your eyelids are going to be drop quicker than the last time you tried to digest an Iranian art film.
Advice This is the class where you catch up on the latest issues of Playboy or, God forbid, Cosmo. If the class is in a large auditorium, don’t forget to fill your mini-cooler with frosty beer cans. Pay a quarter after each class to photocopy notes from a geek in front row.
3.Copious Notes Exacerbated by Illegible Handwriting
Notes-intensive classes are the bane of most students’ academic existence. Instead of distributing an informative paper detailing the construction of the Egyptian pyramids, the bastard lectures for an hour, jotting the key points on the chalkboard so hastily and indecipherable that they might as well be hieroglyphics. To make matters worse, these mad scribblers are constantly using their shirtsleeve to erase what the they just wrote in order to make room for more so that you never have a shot in hell of catching up with them — even if you are somehow able to decode their penmanship.
Advice A) Find that rare soul majoring in stenography and copy their notes. B) Read the textbook.
2.Heavy Accent Renders Speech Incoherent
Being that I’m a scribe, getting through college algebra was a Herculean task for me on par with using a one-iron to land a fairway shot within 10 feet of the flag. When it turned out that my professor rendered English less recognizable than Ozzy Osbourne does, I should’ve dropped the class two seconds after entering the doorway. Unfortunately, the blonde seated next to me was well-endowed, enjoyed wearing low-cut blouses and had a bad habit of letting her pen roll off her desk. Between her perky D-cups and my professor’s habit of mutilating the English language and occasionally slipping in words from his native tongue, I didn’t have a shot at passing.
Advice Avoiding cleavage, fellows, is not an option. However, I should’ve dropped the class before I even had time to lock in on the nicest rack in the room.
1. Refuses to Give "A"
Sounds unconstitutional, doesn’t it? Isn’t there something in the Bill of Rights that says on a standard grading scale at least one person in the class is entitled to a friggin’ A? Well, as anybody who’s been to elementary school knows, students’ basic rights evaporate the instant they step onto the grounds of a public learning facility. (I’ve never attended a private school, so I don’t know what the hell goes on there.) In college, once you’re seated in the classroom, the professor reigns supreme with all the power and authority of a 13th century feudal lord. The professor I had who refused to give an A, to anybody strategically made the announcement the day after you could drop the class and still get a refund. Of course, the class he taught was philosophy. Of the 10 items on this list, he perpetrated all except the one about flirting. He was a strict practitioner of autoeroticism. Advice(All to be done after the semester is completed.) A) Write a letter of complaint to your dean. B) Write an editorial in the college paper humiliating the professor. C) Egg his car. (I only did two of three of these things – I swear.)
This article appears in Aug 21-27, 2002.