That's why it's called a shortcut. If it were easy, it would just be "the way".

Wednesday, March 04, 2009

Recounting SLIP: Part II

I met 'Boy with Sweaty Hands' and 'Creepy Sidekick' within an hour after being permanently left at SLIP forever. Well, if forever meant until Labor Day, then forever. At any rate, watching the brake lights to my dad's car before he turned onto the main road and drove way gave a sense of finality to the fact that I was starting a new journey in life. I was stuck. I think my parents established an 800# at home while I was away so I could call but there was no way I was wimping out. I'm way too tough. After my dad's car faded into a heat wave behind a wall of traffic, I turned to my dorm room.

I felt the walls closing in as I began to unpack my meager belongings. My roommate had shown up with her ultra-preppy belongings as if she had just come from the country club after finishing her tennis lessons and refreshing herself with a cool glass of iced tea with a sprig of mint. Looking back, I'm mildy surprised that an entourage of pool boys did not carry her well organized boxes, freshly done dry cleaning and down comforter in to the room. She reminded me of a 55 year old in an 18 year old body. Her parents lived in Malaysia for a lot of her teenage years as her dad was a "muckitymuck" for his company. She drove a Lexus with leather interior. She was a college student. I had no car. I would later find out that her car was nicer than even the staff and faculty at SLIP. I think she left her silver spoon at home. "Spoons" was my roomie.

After being in the same room with her for about ten minutes, I was ready for some fresh air. I decided to wander away from my dorm room with all the unpacked belongings. Procrastination becomes an art form in college. I started early.

I opened the door to the dorms and stepped into blinding, hot, white light. A heat wave rolled over me and instantly every pore of my body poured forth sweat. Luckily, I'm a girl and I only glisten and it smells rosy.

I descended the stairs and turned to my right. I know now I should have turned left. 'Boy with Sweaty Hands' and 'Creepy Sidekick' were about five paces to my right and closing in. There they were, physically looking somewhat like Laurel and Hardy. Their personalities were not nearly as cool or amusing. Creepy Sidekick started in by introducing himself. He had a weird smile plastered on his face and looked at me as if I were his long lost best friend. After saying "Hello" and giving my name, I felt like I was expected to say or do something more than the occasion called for. Awkward. I stood there with nothing more to say and they stood staring at me. They had the look in their eyes that boys get when they want to be dashing and daring but end up saying something like, "I'm madly in love with a school boy."

No exaggeration, as soon as I was able to extricate myself from the moment of great awkwardness and continue to peruse the grounds solo (not that they boys hadn't offered to escort me), I realized that my unnamed fears of not being able to relate to anyone at this Conservative Christian school may be very, very well founded.


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