👀Diary of a Frat Shoe, Fed Up Gryphons
Plus Staying Hip as a Fifth Year?
Hello and welcome back to the Lookaway.
We’re reaching the boiling point here in Bethlehem. And no, I don’t mean temperature-wise, that was last month. As the stench of midterms transcends time and reaches across the weeks between us, it naturally causes our herd’s levels of anxiety, irritability, and volatility to increase. Every review session and practice problem sheet exponentially increases these stress levels, and infighting within friend groups should be expected to be at an all-time high.
Thinking about not doing your dishes and then asking to borrow your roommate’s best shirt?
Outlook: Not Good.
The Diary of a Frat Shoe
8/28
Dear Diary,
Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I was sitting on the Footlocker rack with all of my brothers and sisters, and she chose me!! ME!!!
When my new owner Sarah gazed into my eyes, I could tell she was the one for me. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt with letters that said “DCHI” and sweat shorts. I did think it was a little odd how she was wearing brand new white sneakers since she was choosing me, but maybe she didn’t like the other sneakers’ personalities. We are going to be best friends. I hope we can do all sorts of wholesome, fun things together like playing tennis, going to the park, or running. Then maybe she can take pictures of said wholesome activities and VSCO them so my old friends will see.
9/17
Dear Diary,
I don’t know if I like this anymore.
It started out well. We were just walking around, which is I guess what one does while wearing shoes. But then Sarah took me to a party. I was excited at first. I had never been to a “frat party,” but have often heard the other shoes compare it to a “lit, crazy movie.” Who doesn’t love a lit AND crazy movie? But this was far from it.
Sarah did a lot of jumping around, which would usually be fine. After all, that’s what I’m made for. But this time, the ground was covered with a layer of wet fluid and slime. On top of the floor’s questionable consistency, the heat was unbearable. Not only was the air hot, but the moisture was palpable. There was sweat rolling down Sarah’s ankle into my eyes, and I got stepped on several times. Like, maybe 30 times. Potentially 35. Not sure of the logistics, but you get it.
10/03
Dear Diary,
Today really proved to me that Sarah does not care about me at all. It was a Saturday, and Sarah and her friends were talking about going to something called Mocos. I was begging to be chosen to go outside. At this point, I had only been outdoors at night, so I was really excited to see Bethlehem’s beauty in the sunlight.
Little did I know that this was my biggest mistake.
Sarah did a lot of walking around lots of different streets, so much so that my soles were worn out within minutes. I knew Sarah could feel it, too. Once we finally stopped at a place, she did even more walking around, taking “laps” with her friends. Then, the rain came. Sarah and her friends squealed with excitement, as rain, sweat, and my own tears mixed in my eyes. The amount of dirt and mud on me is incomprehensible.
It is so degrading to be this filthy and mistreated. The problem is, Sarah doesn’t even care enough to scrub me. So I just stay dirty as the mud cakes onto my skin. Even if she washed me three times at this point, the amount of dirt, sweat, and mysterious liquids would have discolored me by now.
11/24
Dear Diary,
As I stared into Sarah’s eyes, hovering over the trash can, I knew it was over. I didn’t fight it anymore; I begged for the sweet release of death. She didn’t even give me the dignity of a final bath.
I couldn’t remember the last time Sarah and I laughed together, and she could hardly give me the time of day to wear me to her classes or out to lunch with her friends. I had been cursed with this life, the life of a secondary shoe. I know now that this is not what a life should be. As I fell into the trash can, I let out one final cry. Here I sit, waiting for the garbage man to take me away. Finally. Maybe shoe heaven is filled with kids playing tag. I wouldn’t know, I am an adult size.
A Message from the Gryphon on Duty
Gryphons. You love them, you hate them, you wonder why they’re not just called RAs, and you even grant sexual favors to them when you’re locked out. While recruitment for America’s Next Top Narc advertises the job as a good way to get leadership experience and meet new people, free living inside a decrepit flooding residence hall isn’t as cheeky as it sounds. In fact, I’ve got a message on behalf of every Gryphon who’s ever been on duty: we fucking hate you.
Does the cute little clothespin outside my door say I’m the one on duty? No? Then don’t fucking knock on my door. Clearly ENGL-011 didn’t teach you any reading or comprehension skills, because with all the shirtless man-childs that have slammed their sweaty, drunken fists on my door at 4 a.m. I’d have enough to start my own harem. Not that you’d want to hook up with Tyler from Taylor anyway – the freshmen lose their appeal when you’re holding their hair back over the toilet every weekend.
Hell is real, and it occupies the space outside any freshman dorm after 10 p.m. Doesn’t matter what night of the week. If you’ve ever wanted one moment in your soulless, pathetic life of silence and tranquility, forget about that shit. Our darling residents never know how to close their goddamn mouths and stop making noise. Forget Lehigh After Dark. It’s Daycare After Dark. If I have to hear one more discussion while I’m trying to brush my teeth about what you’re wearing to the Psi U chapter house, I’m going to bludgeon someone with the duty phone.
Lastly, if you’re going to drink (I know you are because none of you ever shut up), don’t make it my problem. Believe it or not, passing out on the bathroom floor butt ass-naked covered in a smoothie of your own bodily fluids is not as sexy as you think it is. I don’t care that you’ve pissed yourself and can’t find your shirt (spoiler alert: you’re holding it), and yes, me writing you up will ruin your IBE career. But lucky for you, daddy or EY will probably hire you anyway. So grant me one final act of mercy and either stop walking around in your boxers, or push me down the Dravo stairs and let me suffer.
5th Year, Best Year: How To Scrape Together The Dregs Of Your Old Lehigh Life And Keep The Party Going
So you just couldn’t stay away, could you?
The scent of natty stained air forces, the sight of Daddy Schiffer on his bicycle, the taste of drunk cigs bummed off a frat boy at Molly’s, and the sound of the bass at an East Fifth party thumping through your very bones… it was just too good to let go.
Hey, I get it. I felt it too. When I walked across the stage last May only to receive a hand shake from what appeared to be a frail marionette puppet (I swear I saw John Simon pulling the strings up there) and had to wait two months for my wallet-sized diploma, all I could think was, “I’m just not ready to say goodbye.”
And no one is asking you to. But this new life? It’s going to be harder to navigate. Lucky for you, I’m the master.
It Starts With The Look
Party fashion has come a long way from the skinny black ripped jeans and tube tops of 2018, girls. There’s a new uniform in town, and it’s The Urban Outfitters Corset Top. You seriously do not want to be caught without one of these, or you’re practically begging to be lumped in with the millennials and their quirky mustache tattoos.
Match your corset top with a pair of wide-flare, light-wash jeans. Showing up with anything skinnier is cheugy and they’ll sniff you out immediately. There is absolutely no worse form of social suicide than secretly following behind a group of freshman girls going to East Fifth and overhearing one of them say “it’s the visible ankles for me” or “it’s giving visiting her kid for parents’ weekend.” So fucking humiliating.
(Oh but guys you can still put in zero effort and wear jerseys. Anything more thought out than that is a red flag.)
Go to All of Your Old Club and Chapter Meetings
It might feel weird to stand on the side with your arms crossed and a date-party shirt no one’s ever seen before, but you’ve got seniority. The other members appreciate your wisdom and value the blood, sweat, and tears you put into acquiring ten tons of Icy-Hot for those folding chairs. These are the kids who were having their parents drop them off at school while you were pulling trig in the basement of Christmas Saucon before a lecture. They can learn a lot from your glory days. I’d even go as far as to say they need your guidance. Where ARE the best places to get a blow job on campus? Or, how DO you handle so many bitches as an IBE student? This is your Mr. Miyagi Moment. Don’t waste it.
Be Sure to Grind Hungover At FML
Even though you’re just finishing out your capstone and taking two classes, or maybe staying for a random master’s program that has nothing to do with your undergrad (does it matter if mom and dad are paying for it?) you still want to fit in. Everyone who's anyone is sweating out their regretful MOCOs in FML on Sunday afternoons. Even if you didn’t make it to the Foam Party because not a single one of your friends stayed behind and could bring you along, still go sit with the brothers and reminisce over the wild night you had with that AGam girl, post-pregame. Author Note: Haven’t had sex since the Fetty Wap concert? Okay, that’s fine, just lie and overshare anyway. For an added effect, spend $18 on a breakfast sandwich at Johnny’s before you meet the boys. And whatever you do, don’t fucking shower.
Remember: there’s no shame in being a fifth-year. We’re still here, the brothers and sisters who paved the way to making F&A Grog House cooler than Tally’s. We’ll keep fighting and keep chasing the thrill: the absolute epic highs and lows of college partying (and for a lot of us, another year of NCAA eligibility).
Sorry in Advance: Advice from the Lookaway
Hi Lookaway, alumni here. I've encountered a few problems after graduating. Firstly, I can't just take off work for being hungover. I need to go in and sometimes even do the work. Secondly, the corporate world doesn't day drink as much as I'd like, and when we go to happy hours, it's "customary" to only get two beers instead of my usual nine. What should I do?
Hi Dare to Darty,
As they said in your interview, your employers are looking for employees who go above and beyond. You were hired for your ability to push the boundaries, whether it be in the office or at the open bar. So, are you going to just sit back and follow the rest of the herd? Hell no. Order the nine drinks you desire. Or push it even more and get 10 (unless it’s an Appletini because that’s just embarrassing). Go crazy and buy a round for the whole company while you’re at it. It’s called happy hour for a reason. We are going out on a limb here and assuming you work for a consulting firm in New York because (A) your drinking habits prove you were in the business school and (B) all Lehigh business grads get the same job. If this is the case, surprise your boss by bringing them an 8-ball of coke. They will then realize that you are one of the cool ones and will definitely promote you faster. You know what they say: work hard, do drugs harder.
XOXO,
Sorry in Advance
Tips on how to get a ring before spring?
Hi Needing to be Newlywed,
While securing a ring within a few months may be challenging, it is certainly attainable. First, you have to select your target. And no, we don’t mean Tim from Theta Chi. Find yourself a nice ChemE that doesn’t have an Instagram account. Once you identify your target, make him notice you. You can start off by not talking to anyone (not even your friends) so you can earn the reputation of “shy and mysterious girl.” If this somehow doesn’t work, you can try the classic “what’s your major.” Even if he thinks you’re ugly and gross, he will feel obligated to respond in some capacity. Plus, once you’ve got this ball rolling, he won’t be able to stop mansplaining. But making him fall in love with you is easy. Then comes the hard part: manipulating him from being a mid-tier boyfriend to the perfect husband. Tell him that “ALL boyfriends propose to their girlfriends right before graduation” (he wouldn’t know because he has never had a girlfriend before), and you can expect a Cartier ring within 3-5 business days. You’re welcome.
XOXO,
Sorry in Advance
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