August 25 marked the first day of the 2014 Fall semester over at the University of Akron meaning everybody's got to pull their heads out of their bongs and get their asses back to class; I was no exception.
I carpooled up to Akron with my father and between not having made coffee, the five hours of sleep and the hangover I wasn't much for conversation on the way up I turned on the radio so we could hear what NPR was up to.
It wasn't good day for them either.
It started with a human interest story concerning growing fears over the frowning problem that breakfast cereal sales have fallen in the U.S since their peak in 1996.
It featured background noise of cereal being opened, milk being poured and that all too familiar sound of spoons squeaking against porcelain. The reporter bemoaned that fact that most people consider cereal to be too time consuming of a breakfast for our modern "go-go-go" lifestyles. Our throwaway culture has truly gone too far when there's no time anymore for cereal, which apparently takes longer then American's eleven minute breakfast time slot.
You know a civilization is in decline when people don't have time for cereal in the morning. First thing it's goodbye Cap'n Crunch then suddenly ten year olds are doing meth and gladiator matches suddenly become very fashionable again. The reported intoned how cereal is still "grrrreat" and yeared for a time when people would again enjoy the simple pleasure of the "snap, crackle and pop" of cereal.
Naturally, the follow up was a story concerning how the production and sales of orange juice have dramatically dropped. Turns out fruit juices are just brimming with high fructose corn syrup and promote childhood obesity! To combat America's newfound awareness, and put OJ back where it belongs the CALIFORNIA CITRUS DEPARTMENT has teamed with Marvel comics to trot out America's new favorite super hero, CITRUS MAN. Citrus Man will soon be popping up everywhere, with his own on going series and an exciting tie-in with the newly profitable Avengers; the World's Mightiest Heroes who nobody cared about until they started making $2 billion at the box office.
And people still think creativity isn't ruled by commercialism.
My first and only class of the day was Latin 101. It had a stunning beginning. We all filed into the room and as we all settled, a total calm fell upon the room. I took whatever open seat was in the back like usual. The back row is where all the interesting stuff happens.
It was too early for any verbalizing and the room was quiet except for the sounds of rustling loose leaf. Suddenly someone broke the silence.
A rather jocular looking boy leaned over to his neighbor and began, "Can I tell you about my morning? Oh wait, nobody else is talking… Somebody else make noise!" The entire room awkwardly chuckled and then leaned in to eavesdrop.
"I was pulling into the parking deck when all of sudden my muffler just dropped to the pavement, and I was THAT guy with my car going BRAAAAAAAAAH."
He commanded the room with his antics for a short time longer until the professor entered and said, "Ok, Latin 101 right?"
The room all murmured in agreement, when suddenly the same boy suddenly the same boy suddenly spoke up again.
"Oh! Whoops!" He looked back across the whole class and gave a large wave, "Well, It's been a pleasure, everybody! I'm out! Wrong class. More of a Greek guy myself!"
As he walked to the door the professor said, "Oh well I teach that too! E-mail me!"
"UH, yeah sure," he said as he shuffled out the room, muttering about his newfound tardiness.
From there we got into the usual introductions, statements of majors and our reasoning behind taking Latin.
About 80% of class's reason was summed up by one girl's statement of "I took three years of Spanish in high school and I hated it!!!"
The rest of the room was motley mixture of pre-med, pre-law and history majors.
When asked, one of the history majors replied he was taking Latin due to his interest in witchcraft, the occult and "19th century history, like World War One". I overlooked his blatant chronological confusion and filed the kid for a follow up after class.
One girl showed up late and when asked why she chose Latin gave an flatly snapped, "Because I had to take a language!"
In the back row I applauded her fearless tactlessness.
My neighbor to the left was a muscular, cologne soaked boy named Ashkay, who summed it up best when asked, saying "Well, like all Indians, I'm a pre-med major."
From there things really only got worse.
The corpuscular fellow beside me asked me the inevitable, "where are you from question?"
"Oh, you're from my neck of the woods, I'm from Uniontown. Where you go to high school?"
"Hoover," I replied with a cringe, knowing already his inevitable response.
"Oh cool! Me too! What year did you graduate?"
Now I should mention here that I HATE these conversations. I've had innumerable encounters with people at gas stations who seem to sort-of recognize me and go through the same ballet. They can't remember my name, but suddenly they want to know all about what I've been up to and where I'm working. If we didn't talk then, why talk now?
I can't ever truly describe to these people how much I hate high school related small talk. The last time I tried it went poorly. Some guy was noting how crazy it was that we went to high school with each other I screamed "ISN'T IT INCREDIBLE?!" at the top of my lungs and walked away.
"Oh, cool I graduated 2012."
STOP! WE DON'T KNOW EACH OTHER!
Here's where Ashkay rejoined us.
"Oh wow, you guys are OLD! I'm eighteen!"
(Editorial note: 22 is not, repeat, NOT old.)
Here's where Ashkay took notice of my e-cigarette lying next to my notebook; a token of spineless shame.
"Hey, is that a dab pen or an e-cig?"
"What! You think I'd bring a DAB PEN to class? WHY would I be smoking hash in the middle of class?!" I asked in my best what-planet-are-you-from voice.
A dab pen is an electronic cigarette that has been specially designed to vaporize hash oil, a hit of which is called a "dab." Hash oil being an incredibly potent distillation of marijuana that is now apparently consumed by a large number of social groups. Including sporty, pre-med Indian kids.
Dabs are meant for three in the morning where it would be inconceivable to do anything useful the rest of the day, not in the middle of LATIN.
"Shit man, I took a dab before I walked over to campus. I live really close, so my walk was about ten minutes and I showed up just high as FUCK and i was like, 'shit!.""
"You took a DAB of HASH OIL before CLASS?! WHY?"
"Shit, why not? Man, my dab rig is so nice. I spent $180 on it. It's got like 10 percolators; you don't feel nothing when it hits you."
"What kind of medicine did you say you were going into?"
The rest of class I was too overwhelmed by my professors's talk of direct object and genitive cases to really process what Ashkay had told me.
On the way out I approached the occult historian.
"So what do you study generally? Hermeticism? Kabbala?" I asked, hoping to establish early that I too was in on lingo and wasn't to be trifled with.
"Oh well mostly Enlglish witch craft from the 14th and 15th century."
My interested lessened, yet I remained hopeful.
"Dr. Graham had a pretty profound effect on me. He inspired me to change my major to history." He said with a knowing smirk.
"Oh me too, he's amazing."
"Yeah, I saw his band. Their last show." Again the smirk. I immediatley realized it wasn't a knowing smirk, but a smirk that you get when an egotist thinks their covertly exerting their ego's power of you. I was unenthused.
"He gets coffee from Angel Falls everyday, and I'm always like "C'mon Dr. Graham you know how much I love their coffee.""
"Plus his son is a TOTAL pot head. It's so funny!" He said between squint eyed giggles, his already mouse like face verging towards a rat's.
"I'd go into his class so high and he'd know what was up!"
"Oh man, I can't go to class high." Again, yet another dude assuming I'd be into them bragging about weed.
"No, it's cool, I get straight A's and I smoke an eighth a day."
I didn't really say that, but that was the only reasonable response. This kid was the "straight A," unjustified ego having, witchcraft practicing stoner from my nightmares. Plus, the kid was smoking $50 worth of pot everyday.
"Can you remember anything?" I asked.
"Well, freshman and sophomore year are a bit foggy, but I'm doing fine nowadays."
I was again left to ponder why is it that A) stoners immediatley identify me as someone who can relate and understand and B) why do they feel like they need to tell me and brag about it.
Ashkay's assumed intersection of e-cig and dab culture did not go unnoticed. The thought process behind it became clearly apparent. Ashkay saw the e-cig, knew I was trying to quit smoking cigarettes and because I smoked cigarettes, I was either one of two things: a drinker or a stoner. He had looked me over: glasses, skinny, vaguely bookish in appearance, most certainly not the frat party type. He then made his guess and correctly assumed I knew what a dab pen was, and quite possibly would have one.
He probably brought it up because he wanted me to feel obligated to give him a hit if it had been a dab pen.
The history weirdo just figured it out because I like to talk about the occult and looked like a nerd stoner too.
Smokes an eighth a day. No wonder he's into witchcraft.
The college experience is still alive and well, and don't ever say it isn't. Just sit in the back row of the class room and you'll hear what people are really learning about.
kianamaiart
blakekathryn
dailybridgerton
areudirty
germansingergirl
andulkaphoto
gummygunk
stormborns
theartofmadeline
gracieabrams