Column:
First day of college ends in disaster
Published Jan. 25, 2008
Ah, a new semester, a new year: a new chance to right the wrongs of a rough and tough fall. This semester I am going to turn over a new leaf. And I know that sounds like more of a fall activity. (Leaves, fall — I'm so clever.) But as I was saying, yes, this semester will be different. I still did not successfully schedule my classes around "The Price Is Right" like I should have, but I did reorganize a few other things in my life. I've come a long way from the awkward freshman I once was.
Now, I'll admit I'm a bit of a socially awkward individual. I sometimes stutter, trip over things and make the occasional off-color joke in front of old women. But I never realized how incredibly inept I could be until my freshman year at MU.
My first day of class as a big college boy turned out disastrously. I woke up, got a shower and was ready for class. I put every single one of my books into my bag; I have no idea why. Possibly in case of flash flood, and the off chance I would need to build a flotation device with my books and perhaps a sorority girl's fake breasts purchased by her daddy as a high school graduation present. You know, real MacGyver stuff. Alas, there were no floods.
I was a nervous wreck. I left about 30 minutes too early for a class in the Physics building, so I was walking at a jolly pace. About 100 feet from the Physics building I noticed that these other students were strange. They all seemed so much older and had mustaches and thick glasses. I figured I was at the right building.
After I shook off the image of the strange 'stached students all of the sudden something came over me: I panicked and thought, "Oh no! Did I forget my book?
Everyone is going to make fun of me if I forget my physics book!" Which turned out not to be the opposite: it's when you remember your physics book that people make fun of you.
In a distraught manner, I ripped my bag off my shoulder and plopped it to the ground. I tore it open frantically searching; I was so relieved it was there.
A calm came over me, and just then I thought, "I think I got a hang of this college thing." So, I swung my heavy book bag back over my shoulder and WHACK!
I almost pooped myself when I heard that sound.
I turned my head around and saw a man on a bike teeter-tottering back and forth until finally he crashed into a bike rack and fell over. I froze.
I had just killed someone with my book bag.
All the physics nerds were staring at me with their judgmental facial hair and Coke-bottle lenses.
So I took a double take and looked at the guy that I knocked off the bike. He looked at me. Our eyes met. I ran off.
Have you have ever seen anyone run with a book bag on his back? The sheer weight of a semester's worth of books made me crumble to the ground. I tucked, rolled and sprinted away from the scene of the crime.
I have since determined that it's that guy's fault for riding so close to as lethal an individual as I. I'm dangerous. I strike without warning. And this is why I need to change my ways and become more docile like a bunny rabbit — a male rabbit because they get all kinds of bunny play.
Love, Ryan Beck
rjbwbc@mizzou.edu