It’s happened to the best of us. Read after the jump for some thoughts on the point system, harsh RAs and freshman innocence/stupidity.
The First Time I Got Written Up (astag_rocky)
For some reason, the basic freshman inside me loved the idea of bar night. Maybe it was the same way I felt about lanyards, until the second day of school when I realized how much you sucked if you left one waywardly dangling from your (most likely) beige khaki pants. Bar night represented a distinct difference between high school and college: the reprieve from the ills of the working week and the promise of doing some debaucherous shit on a Wednesday night. For sure, the Corner Pocket was no Vines on Church. In fact, it couldn’t have been in a more remote and random location in Middletown. But, you had to get some satisfaction knowing that if it weren’t for Wesleyan, The Corner Pocket probably would not exist (and I assume will soon file for bankruptcy now that Vines is open). One night, my freshman-self decided not to shut my turn-up off once I headed back to Clark, and I strode triumphantly out of the fourth floor elevator ready to conquer whatever was in my path.