Wednesday, November 12, 2008

College...Earning the B.A.C. Degree.


I remember college...most of it. Some of it. Well. I remember college. There were way too many early mornings. There were way too many papers to write. And there were way too many girls to distract me from my studies. Still, I soldiered on and skipped only as many hours as I could get away with.

College is the place you go to if you want to learn as much as you can about the opposite sex while you pass the time reading books and taking tests. I learned a lot through my college experiences. I learned that flourescent lights are blinding when you have a hangover. I learned that professors can tell when you havent been to sleep in days. I learned that dorms smell something like grass and hot sweat. I learned that girls are pretty much the point of all existence. And I learned how to drink.

Quarters. Beer Pong. Beer Bongs. Keg Stands...

College is the Olympics of drinking. You spend four years practicing your art before they throw you out into the real world. Yep. It's a four year drinking program. Rehab has nothing on college. They just dont put in the time.

While some people, ostensibly, go to college to earn a Bachelor of Arts degree (BA) or others work hard for their Doctorate of Philosophy (PhD)...most college students aspire to earn that most important of Social degrees...the Blood Alcohol Content degree (BAC).

As with every other degree hard won in college, the BAC degree requires time, effort, discipline and dedication. Most young college girls get their feet wet, among other things, with an Amaretto Sour in hand. As they move out of their Freshman phase, they sample a litany of shots and light beers. Further up the college ladder, the best of them move on to well liquors. At last, the graduates leave college behind knowing well the effects of high calls such as Bacardi, Patron, Bombay and Crown Royal.

It's not so very different for the boys at school. As I recall, most of us scorned the Amaretto Sours and went straight to the Long Island Teas. Sure, we scored well with the beers, made the grade with rum and cokes and tapped a fountain of kegs. But, in the end, we managed the real feats of collegiate alcoholism. We made a sport of it. The girls were something like the opposing team...and drinking them under the table was the whole idea.

Binge drinking is a stupid thing to do. Maybe that explains why so many undergrads do it in the first place. Perhaps, college is there to brighten us up enough not to spend our lives living as raging alcoholic whoremongers. At least the concept is sound.

Still, there is some modicum of satisfaction one gets from graduating with a BAC degree. The only problem is that you just cannot remember what that satisfaction was based on. That girl that used to sit next to you in class wont talk to you anymore. You have tree branches sticking out of your radiator. And there is a tattoo on the back of your neck that you only hope is a rocket ship.

Ahh college. Who can forget what you didnt forget about it? And it's all thanks to that glossy BAC degree hanging on your wall. We see our chums at the local happy hour and raise our glasses high.

Clink! Here's to drinking professionally. We graduated.


Scott Free BAC

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