It is inaccurate for me to think that all the things that happen in my dorm are just "like" college. It IS college, just not for me anymore — technically.
My new roommate moves in tomorrow, and I will once again surrender the privacy and ability to watch and listen to whatever I want on my laptop I've come to enjoy these last few days. I still know absolutely nothing about him, just that his name is Antonin Chef. Here's hoping he's not as weird as his name.
But the worst college reminder occurred when I came home from work today and these two loud J.A.P.s were giggling and running off the elevator. I ignored them initially, till I went to press my button and noticed all the floors were lit up. Those freakin' orange-faced freshmen were off to spend their daddys' money in their screaming-for-air size 10 designer jeans and totally pissed me off for a hot minute. Granted, it wasn't nearly as bad as all the shit (literally) people would put on the Tri Towers elevators, but it's just the principle. New Yorkers should have a little more decorum sometimes!
But then I remembered that no matter how fabulously wealthy those brats' parents may be or how obnoxiously immature their freshman elevator antics get, they most definitely will not be going where I'm going tonight.
The (roller-skating) album release party for Jessica Simpson at Roxy!
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2 comments:
so, how, exactly, did you determine that they were jewish?
The noses, the hair, and the Louis Vuitton purses.
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