Fall Philly Freshmen Features

From early September Fall came to Philadelphia last weekend sometime. Actually, Monday September the 8th was when we all realized the difference. The morning was that first real, non-humid, not-too-hot morning. Something like in the low 70s.

The new freshmen came to Philly last month sometime. Oh, what a treat. It was that first morning, Monday, August 28th, when the Septa buses had to be re-routed to accommodate the incoming families for freshmen move-in. Penn shuts down all kinds of streets for these kids. No, actually, for their parents.

The Penn parents. It was at lunch--or, rather, trying to get lunch amidst the wandering herds of wide-eyed newbies, that I realized that it's the Penn parents, more than the Penn undergrads, that are so damn irritating.


Plaid bermudas, boatshoes, popped F'ing collars on Lacoste polos, and cashmere cardigans. Rolex watches, crappy memorial bracelets, oversized sunglasses, Cape Cod tan. Oh god, or worse: the moms who are trying to look like their daughters... ugh.

ALMOST as annoying as these two idiots:

Each set of parents comes with a WASPy little air of self-importance, even if they're Asian. Each set of parents looks happier to be on campus, more interested in what's happening, than their kids. Their kids, bored, waiting for the parents to go home. So their semester can kick off with a week or two of parties.

Yes, the parties... I was waiting for the bus on Friday, heading home from work around midnight. (I'm beginning to see a pattern in my posts here...) A taxi stopped across the street from the bus stop where I was. The passengers got out the wrong side, and directly in the middle of the street. In the middle of the street where cars were coming from the other direction. One sedan swerved, laid on the horn. And that's when I noticed it. The girl was laughing and falling down in front of traffic. A guy came out of the cab after her and grabbed her around the middle. The third passenger was another girl, on the curbside trying to pay the fare.

The falling-down-drunk was young, beautiful. They were all young, and quite beautiful. Both girls were wearing really, really short dresses. The guy was wearing something GQ stylish. The falling-down drunk girl was really gone. The guy was carrying her basically, sideways, across the street. The drunk girl was tripping all over her gold heels, as if she were wearing scuba flippers.

The cars kept coming, kept honking, kept speeding around them. The guy was having big problems. So I went out in the street to help. I took one arm over my neck, he gratefully took the other and we shuffled her over to the curb. When I let her go she promptly crumpled. He picked her up again, with her dress up around her waist. Her ass was hanging out of the tiniest pair of underwear she could get, without wearing a thong. I pulled her dress down, and her other friend finally got across the street to help. I was talking to the girl, trying to get her eyes to focus at all.

Once upon a time, I drank a half of a bottle of Bacardi 151 by myself in a few hours. So, well, let's just say, having been a freshman once, I've been there. I don't remember much that night. My friend Juliet stayed with me in the girls bathroom on the second floor of Hatch. She called the police, to report alcohol poisoning. Turns out she jumped the gun. But then a month or two after that, I drank a half of a bottle of Jack Daniels in two hours. I definitely don't remember that night. That night was definitely closer to poisoning... It hurts. No one likes you. Especially yourself. And whatever poor janitor cleans the dorm bathrooms.
Oh man, those parties...

Fortunately for these Penn punks, the undergraduate dorms are across a sidewalk from the Hospital at the University of Pennsylvania. A half-block from the med school. Perfectly placed, I'd say.

The trio del borrachos got to the trashcan on the sidewalk before Drunkee McGee started heaving ho. Unfortunately(?) for her (or us, for having to watch?) she was face-down over a public trashcan, arms stretched all over it... a trashcan I had seen many people hock loogies into... or onto. And maybe fortunately for all the people driving by, she had managed to throw her dress up onto her back in the process, which escaped her guardians' attention. Her ass--dare I say, her "fine" ass without getting pegged a lesbian--was bared for all, and the cabbies were lllllllovin' it. The guy friend looked up and glowered at all the honking cars going by, until I caught his eye, and I made a little movement behind my back, as if to pull down some piece of clothing.

He looked down, bent backwards to look behind drunk girl #1, and pulled it down. He half-waved in thanks before Drunkee decided she was going to walk, and they chased her down the sidewalk towards the dorms.

As my bus pulled up, I couldn't help but wonder how proud mom and dad would be of their little Ive league undergrads, throwing up all over Philly, wrecking their junior boatshoes.


Well on their way to adult alcholism at the yacht club.