Here’s an old favorite from NSOP 2006. Send your own first night stories to firstname.lastname@example.org to inspire the freshlings.
It’s your first day at Columbia. Mom and Dad just drove back to New Jersey, and you are ready to celebrate your newfound freedom. But wait. Shit! You’ve heard that Columbia is an awful party school. They say the only fun thing to do here is cocaine, but you don’t want to put anything in your nose. You’re planning on being pre-med; noses are for sneezing.
You want to drink. Well never fear: did you know you can overcome homesickness by drinking? Bwog contributor Will Snider channels this spirit to conjure a typical first night out during Orientation Week. So sit back, relax, and forget everything you learned from alcohol.edu. Remember, you’re pre-med. You know that shit.
10:30pm — Your Floor Meeting just ended. After learning from your RA “what it means to be part of a vibrant campus community,” you’re ready to kill some brain cells. Rob, that sort of sketchy guy on your floor who wears way too much Axe deodorant and brags about being from Buffalo, pulls out a handle of Nikolai vodka and punches you in the stomach saying, “It was made in Kentucky, so you know it’s good.” Someone brings out four shot glasses, and you chase the drinks with the Gatorade your mother bought at Sam’s Club for you. Everyone on your floor comes out to this makeshift party. Suddenly, you begin to think Columbia might not be so socially awkward after all.
10:45pm — Your floormates are now all passed out in the common room. By your seventh call to CAVA the dispatcher knows your name, and you begin to wonder why you didn’t just go to Michigan. So what if it’s a state school? You decide to venture beyond Carman Hall.
11:20pm — After your cousin’s old fake ID is rejected by 1020, Nacho’s [now defunct], the Heights, and even the Abbey (despite seeing what appear to be 12-year-old girls being admitted), you give up and begin to walk back to Carman. Out of nowhere a guy in a polo shirt who reeks of cigarettes and jungle juice assaults you. He slaps you on the ass and tells you to rush Pike—even if you’re a girl. Suddenly you find yourself in a dark room with a sticky floor, surrounded by sweaty men and girls in short skirts, and you realize you’re in a frat house. You didn’t even know Columbia had fraternities. How did all these people get into Columbia? (Hint: they were once just like you. Almost.) At the frat party you squint your eyes to find the keg in the dark.
11:34pm — While in line for the bathroom you see two guys doing lines off a coffee table. You tell them you’ve never seen cocaine before, and they tell you it’s Adderall. Suddenly one of them begins to read Dubliners. You now know what hell feels like. (more…)