The Daily Tar HeelThursday, June 28, 19907B KIT OF Top 5 college embarrassments from someone who should know Just when I thought college was going my way, I thought I'dfinally escaped the horrific social night mares I experienced in grade school, times so bad that I wanted to take my Charlie Brown lunch pail and jump off the top floor of the elementary building, just when I thought I had built up a sufficient quantity of friends that made me feel like a worthwhile human being, riding my bike to my poli sci class. Pedaling across campus with the au tumn leaves making little whirlpools in the crisp Carolina morning sun, I sped in front of Saunders building. A girl I knew from C-TOPS, a. pretty young woman on which I had one of those freshman hormone crushes, came out of the front door and yelled to me. "Hey, Ian! What's up?" "Hey," I said, turning around. "What's up with y " and before I had any chance to exchange pleasantries, I plunged right into a crisp Carolina shrubbery, sending my bike into a dumpster and my poli sci homework into the ionosphere. I lay sprawled out on the sidewalk with my shoe across the quad and a deciduous branch sticking out of my pants. And suddenly every friend I'd ever made, every goal I'd ever accomplished and every good time I'd ever had was suddenly negated all I wanted to do was curl up into fetal position and have my mommy make me a baloney samwich. It was then I decided to write this column, just in case someone out there thinks that embarrassments are for uneducated children who don't know any better, and also as an absolution for myself and maybe anyone else who has gone through The Five Most Embar rassing Moments in College. 5. The Mistaken Wave This seems like a fairly harmless embarrassment, but it is a deadly mood kijler. Picture yourself sitting in the Pit, casually reading your eagerly-awaited is$ue of Shout! magazine. Whilst pe rusing an article on the fashion benefits o mammary reduction operations, the gdy you've been staring at for two months in English class stops about 20 feet in front of you. Putting down his backpack and smiling that gorgeous smile, he waves to you and motions that ydu come over. You wave back enthu siastically, your bad day suddenly bright and cheery, and start to get up. Just then, another girl cuts you off on the steps, walks proudly over to him, and the two embrace in a testament of obvious true love. This is an archytypal embarrassment scheme, the old I-was-talking-to-the-giti-behind-you trick that has been played out since caveman days, so don't feel alone in this one. With all the ef fusive waving going on around here, it's; hard not to get caught in the social crossfire. Do what I do always assume that they're waving to someone behind ydu infinitely more beautiful and higher on the evolutionary ladder than thou. i4. The Abortive I.D. Scam TAs a rite of manhood, it was your tojcen first night on the town, the first time you were going to go out and Get Df unk With the Boys, to scam on babes arid generally have something to tell 5 : Let us help you find that scholarship for college only $59 I (6 to 25 choices on each inquiry) j EdStart l Professional Academic Counseling P.O. Drawer 630 Chapel Hill, NC 27514 j 919-929-7817 EdfaUIHiMiliilBi You Don't Have to SEARCH the whole world over for quality, unique clothing and equipment when Sid's is in your backyard! Surplus Sid's Military Surplus 302-A E. Mean St. Carrboro tan Williams Wednesday's Child your grandson when you go fishing with him 50 years from now. The problem was, you were still 19, and even with the new abortion ruling making you 19 and nine months, you would still have to wait a year and a half in the snow outside Four Corners in order to get in. Enter some dude in you dorm who through some shady DMV forgery managed to get a hold of an I.D. that "looks just like you, I swear, man..." The night came, and the line started to move into the bar. Your buddy slipped you the I.D., and it turns out that it is the long -expired truck license of 28-year-old Ramone Proudfoot, a Native Indian from Tuscon, Arizona. The bouncers take turns laughing at it, and you spend the rest of the evening watching your friends and your date doing Wild Tur key shots through the window. 3. The Date's Dental Nightmare Another primal humiliation. You and your date were at Aurora's, having a great time. Money was no object tonight, and you splurged on salad, antipastos and powerful wine. For the first time in months, you seemed to have met some one that really appreciates you for who you are, someone who understands you when you speak, someone who is a Vy r EQUAL HOUSING OPPORTUNITY Mm ( j ) 933-2345 7 P& I FRANKLIN ST wonderful combination of intelligent and sexy. Halfway through the evening, however, he seems to get uncomfortable about something. He constantly looks down, and begins to answer in muffled monosyllables finally, the tension gets a little too great, and you exercise your usual means of escape. "Ummm, I think I need to go to the little ladies room." You walk in, and are confronted by the mirror. Nothing seems amiss, you think, and smile just to prove it. But there, on your teeth, is no ordinary chive, no speck of pepper you seemed to have your entire hors d'oeuvre stuck to your dental work. Even emergency flossing doesn 't remove it, and you look for a window to crawl out of, so that you can die an old maid in peace. 2. The Frat Dance Maybe it's something genetic, maybe it's some sort of environmental influ ence, or something in the water, but white males just can't dance. Girls can pretty much do anything, and as long as it's somewhat rhythmic, we call it "sensual," but most guys just end up looking like they got saddle sores somethin' fierce. To compensate for this utter lack of soul, guys will perform the Frat Dance, a disjointed wobble while holding a full plastic up of beer aloft. Later in the evening, he may shed the beer and perform a dance probably only known to the sun gods of ancient Egypt and those suffering from various neurological disorders. For guys, dancing is that fine line between raptire n i fruity-ness, if any girl says that th-" 1; jk stupid, they will W) vm Ap&vtm&nk. Now V ' ,aWOODSnJ jf CARR MILL XXiiiv! 968-3983A.mall UNC (m) - vFp ) )) jl- iff D 967-2239 Mon. immediately Ipse their buzz, hide be hind the keg and never dare the Watusi again. ..... . 1. The Fart Heard 'Round the World There is no doubt that this is the humiliation of humiliations, the Big Cheese of embarrassments, the one great equalizer of humanity. I was in this quaint art seminar. The teacher was droning in a pleasant monotone, as the class approached that time every period when everyone seems to sink into a deep pleasant reverie when suddenly the loudest, most horrific sounding tempest of a fart came ex ploding from the guy sitting in front of me It lasted for 10 seconds and was so loud that it scared me, it shook the paintings on the wall and probably set off the seismograph in Raleigh. For a few seconds afterwards, no one knew what to do, and the class was in a silent chaos. Even after 1 8 years of schooling, a double major and 22 years under my belt, I burst out laughing. So did the guy in front of me and all the girls, and the teacher tried to get the class to order. Finally, he let class go early, and we all ran outside with tears on our faces. What happens in the end? Even on statistically abnormal days when all of these things have happened to us, we still managed to wake up the next day alive and well, still biking to class and still with enough loved ones around to make us feel worthwhile. So anytime you feel your heart plummet, remember your caveman ancestors how nice it was to wave wildly in a savage dance 9 967-2231 y L - Fri. 9-6 Sat. ritual, be any age you want, fart and not even floss around a not-too-distant campfire... Editor's note: This column is re 0 D 0 D $5 OFF CART FEE with purchase of 18 hole green fees with this ad through Sept. 30, 1990 Limit 18 holes per person per day 18-hole Public Course Complete Line Driving Range, outfjtoit Golf Q Viihiiiiii-Wim mi mini Vou Cain Afffor OMNI EUROPA HOTEL EASTGATE SHOPPING CENTER 10-5 printed from the Oct. 18, 1989, edition of The Daily Tar Heel. 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