Last fall I, as every other freshman here, sat through a ridiculous number of college information sessions, followed numerous backward-walking tour guides, and after each visit inevitably asked myself, "how is this school different from the eight others I saw before lunch?" My answer usually had something to do with the intensity with which the tour guide had backed into a telephone pole (Williams won that contest).
Then I came to Bowdoin. All I remember is that during the information session a very impressive and composed senior (whose identity is still a mystery to me) spoke not only of her knowledgeable and passionate professors, but also of her social life here. She said that when she came to Bowdoin she was shy, but wasn't willing to drink excessively to make friends. However, the young woman said that she easily found a group of students with whom she could drink moderately, have intellectual discussions, and go on adventurous off-campus excursions.
I chose Bowdoin because that girl's speech gave me chills. I identified with her completely?that's how I was and still am.
But when I came to Bowdoin and realized that much of the social scene was centered on drinking I was faced with an immediate dilemma: drink and compromise a critical aspect of my personality or not drink and count the contours on the plaster walls of my dorm room each Thursday, Friday and Saturday night.
In the spirit of open-mindedness, I tried both. Not surprisingly, neither solution appealed to me. Just as some people like pea soup and others don't, some people enjoy the acid burn of vodka going down the esophagus more than others. Let me qualify that statement; no one (save masochists and morphine addicts) could enjoy the actual act of taking shots?even severe alcoholics cringe and shake their heads with every gulp.
Rather, people drink for the feeling. Most drink, become eager to party, more loquacious, less inhibited and?quite simply?more fun. I don't. There's no particular reason for the adverse effect alcohol has on me, but regardless it makes me want to crawl into corner with a baseball bat and play a life-sized version of "whack-a-mole" with passersby?not a particularly effective way to make friends.
For me, drinking can't stand alone as the only verb in a sentence. To answer the question, "what did you do last night" with "drink" is just as absurd as saying that all you did on Tuesday was wake-up, brush your teeth, eat three meals and go to bed. To me drinking is not an activity; it accompanies an activity. And no, pong and Beirut are not the sorts of activities I'm talking about.
I thoroughly enjoyed going out to Canadian bars and clubs during the summer, and sampling different beers and mixed drinks. The most fun night, though, was when my incredibly talented friend Sarah blew away all the customers in a Karaoke bar with her rendition of "Pinball Wizard." So, it took two beers to get Sarah to perform, she didn't "boot" on the stage, and she certainly remembered the applause the next morning.
The idea of not remembering where you've been the morning after a night of drinking reminds me of the thought provoking question: "Would it be worth it to you to go to Disney World, have an awesome time, but not remember it when you returned?" To me the answer has always been clear?of course it's worth it, but it's a lot better to have memories. If the reason to drink is to have fun, then why drink so much as not to remember the fun that you had? These, by the way, are not rhetorical questions; I'm truly curious in a completely non-belligerent way (I promise that I don't even own a baseball bat).
Although these frustrations have been plaguing me for the last month, I never would have mustered the guts to write this op-ed had not a few other people voiced the same concerns. In fact, I learned that incredibly cool, socially aware, extroverted people have the same frustrations. Who'd have ever thought that not only library-dwelling, glasses wearing nerds want to do something other than drink or study on a Saturday night? All this time I thought I was alone. I only wish that it hadn't taken so long to realize that there are other people who feel the pressure to drink rather than the desire to do so.
And, for the record, I am not in the least bit critical of those who drink. I'm not a moron?I did, after all, get into Bowdoin. I expected a lot of drinking, completely respect (and sometimes envy) those who like to drink, and, as long as no one tries to force me to drink, can coexist peacefully with those who do.