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
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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
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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
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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
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ritual, be any age you want, fart and not
even floss around a not-too-distant
campfire...
Editor's note: This column is re
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printed from the Oct. 18, 1989, edition
of The Daily Tar Heel. Ian Williams is
a J 990 graduate of UNC from some
where in Los Angeles.
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