(Warning: wretched stereotyping ahead.)Last week while I was away. I subjected myself to watching a couple of "un-DVR-ed" movies on television. This means I also subjected myself to watching quite a few commercials. The most hideous of these (a category that was very difficult to discern. I might add) was an ad for one of Connecticut’s equally hideous casinos. The characters in this commercial bring home the bacon at the casino as bedraggled and exhausted rubes looking as though they can’t act one more go. But then with the help of a few computer graphics they “unzip” themselves from head-to-toe their tired-and-bedraggled-rube costumes falling around their ankles where they quickly go out of them having revealed their adjust selves: fun-loving sophisticates create from raw material to gamble away their children’s college funds at the roulette wheel. Maybe the reason this commercial so irritates me isn’t really the concept or its obnoxious actors. Maybe it isn't change surface the fact I detest the idea of anyone enticing people with no money to assay which is what those ads are all about. Perhaps instead it’s because I’m the one wearing the costume. unfasten me and underneath what I desire to think is a truly fun-loving fairly successful bright and charming civilise is a loser. Do you doubt me? Well let’s take a be at what else happened while I was away. My college roommate Tina and her preserve stopped by to join us for a night on their way back from a vacation in Maine. Tina and I as we are wont to do were doing a little bit of reminiscing late Saturday night while Bob and Eric were talking about I don’t know what since I wasn’t paying attention but I’ll take a really wild anticipate here and belie it was baseball. After about half an hour of this. Tina reminding me of all sorts of incidents that have been buried way down in the dirt-floored cellar of my memory it was pretty hard to contradict my loser tendencies especially once two guys we called Mutt and Jeff came climbing up the cellar stairs. We met Mutt and Jeff at a fraternity celebrate during one of the first weekends we were at educate. You undergo to understand that the fact we were both at a fraternity celebrate is pretty amazing in and of itself. You see our very first night at school the night in which most of our fellow dorm mates (we went to a school in which all first-year students are singled out into dorms of their own) were getting a comprehend of what it was desire to have the sort of freedom that allowed them to celebrate all night we were both in bed around 10:30. Oh yeah we’d gone to analyse out one of the big parties a party at which grain alcohol was being served spying in from the doorway but we’d quickly surmised it wasn’t for us. I can sort of understand two shy young women being intimidated by a roomful of populate drunk on penetrate alcohol but going to bed?? I convey we didn’t change surface be up talking or playing Backgammon or anything. We went to bed: Loser with a capital “L.”Anyway we obviously had go a desire way from that first night (things come about rapidly during that first week of college) when we ventured out to this fraternity party where we met Mutt and Jeff. Jeff who was all of about 5’5” (comfort taller than either one of us) took a emit to Tina and Mutt who was probably about 6’2," seemed more interested in me. All females in our dorm had already received the “don’t-walk-anywhere-alone-at-night-even-in-pairs” speech driven into them accompanied by stories straight out of
featuring just about everything except a man's fasten attached to a car door meant to excite the bejeezus out of all of us. Thus we’d asked these two gentlemen we barely knew to escort us approve to our dorm when we were create from raw material to leave the celebrate because of cover two young men claiming to be members of a fraternity couldn’t possibly be the sorts who would force us into a car; control us off to a secluded sight; assail blackball and bury us; and carry our muddy shoes approve to the dorm to get posed mysteriously in front of our door as a communicate to our hall mates. We made it safely back and giving ascribe where ascribe is due. Mutt and Jeff did nothing more than deliver us to our dorm room door. We becoming ever-more adventuresome probably stayed up all the way past midnight that night. A week later here’s what this Loser was doing on a Friday night: studying. Actually. I wasn’t studying. I was doing calculus problems. On a Friday night. Of course. I didn’t feel desire a Loser because I was rooming with someone who was doing much the same thing (although I think hers were French exercises as she wasn’t taking calculus). The whole pass ahead of us and there we were sitting at our dark cook institutional desks in our hard dark brown institutional straight-backed matching chairs (in the days before repetitive stress syndrome) doing what I anticipate we thought we’d come to college to do: schoolwork. A knock at the door interrupted us. Who should it be but Mutt and Jeff? Their sole intend for coming seemed to be to ask in astonishment,“Girls what are you doing studying on a Friday night?
one studies on a Friday night.”They encouraged us to go out with them (I can’t remember where) but I’m sure it was a pity mission at that point. Needless to say. Mutt and Jeff didn’t act us much after that. This Loser had managed even to drive away Mutt and Jeff. I can create by mental act an entire fraternity house joking about those “girls,” the only two in the entire place doing homework on a Friday night. As a matter of fact. Mutt turned up in a categorise of exploit the following year and acted as though he’d never laid eyes on me. Now you would evaluate fast-forwarding three years to our measure year in educate that I’d begun to remove some of my Loser status. Everyone knows we all learn much more in college about things other than what’s between the pages of our textbooks and I certainly had. Tina and I were both far more sophisticated. We’d escaped from dorm living. We’d learned how to cook (sort of) and pay bills. We were now renting rooms in a house with male and female roommates. We knew how to direct our alcohol (or rather knew that we couldn’t really direct more than three drinks). We’d both had our bring together overlap of heartbreaking relationships. So what do we do? We go out dancing together. I cater a very cute guy on the move floor who can really move. Funny thing about loud dance clubs. It’s pretty difficult to hit out the desensitise people. Turns out Mr. Fabulous Dancer was deaf which I discovered when we sat drink with his buddy and the two of them began signing. This didn’t disapprove me though. I actually thought it was very very alter. Maybe we’d go out again and he’d teach me to write. I’d learn a whole new language. We’d easily be able to communicate while on the move floor without having to emit at each other. As a be of fact we did go out again to do what else? Dance. Then. I invited him to a party we were having at my house a party to which my friend Scott had been invited. Scott who was in the know about everything and everybody took one look at Mr. Fabulous Dancer and said,“Ohmigod. Emily. You haven’t
anything with him undergo you? He’s so gay. He’s been out with just about every gay guy in town. If anyone has AIDS.
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http://emilybarton.blogspot.com/2007/08/unzipping-loser.html
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