If you’re topless at a drunken party, try not to take yourself too seriously
Last weekend I was at a house party with all the trimmings: loud music, a crowded dance floor, scantily clad women, and of course, the token shirtless dude dancing on a table.
As the night wore on, my friend and I grew tired of our ‘Kid ‘n Play’ routine and sat down in a quieter, less crowded room. From there we spotted the shirtless dude, who was putting on a T-shirt before our very eyes.
‘Come on, man,’ I yelled at him in mock dismay. ‘Keep the guns on display.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do, douche bag,’ the shirtless dude shot back at me.
He’s gotta be kidding, I told myself. There’s no way a guy who parties so hard that he literally cannot contain his 140-pound frame with conventional clothing takes himself that seriously. Chuckling at his retort, I waited for him to smile back at me.
He never did.
I might’ve been out of line in poking fun at a complete stranger, and the guy could’ve had a really tough day. But I knew for a fact that he was having a fantastic night. Yet, all it took was one innocuous comment, and BAM – I’m a douche bag.
When did people start taking themselves so seriously?
Maybe we lost a little joy in our hearts when Bennifer broke up, or maybe we’re still upset that Jamie Lynn Spears, Sarah Palin and Barbara Walters never answered our fan mail, but these tragedies are no excuse for such a lack of self-awareness.
So, just to make sure this mistake doesn’t happen twice, I’ve laid the groundwork for a Syracuse University social manifesto.
Rule #1: If you are in public and not fully clothed, you forfeit the right to take yourself seriously. I’m fine with private nudity. In fact, I encourage it. But outside of your room, stay off your high horse (or any horse, really) unless you’re fully dressed. You don’t see any cops directing traffic wearing nothing but a hat and a nightstick, and you sure as hell don’t see any professors giving lectures in just their corduroy jackets.
Rule #2: If you’re dressed to impress, don’t squeal about your heels. Every guy loves a girl with pointy shoes and a hiked-up skirt – until she complains about her heels. Nobody forced you to wear uncomfortable shoes, so please don’t come running to us when they start to hurt. At what point are those two extra inches of height not worth it? Is there really a guy out there right now thinking to himself, ‘hmm, she’s ok at 5 feet 4 inches, but if she were 5 feet 6 inches I’d be all over that?’ Doubtful.
Rule #3: Hold your liquor. Last Thursday I went to the bathroom at 2 a.m. and found my friend sitting on the bathroom floor in a puddle of what I can only assume was his own vomit. He didn’t smile for any of the pictures I took of him.
Rule #4: If you have a rash, don’t brag about it. Don’t ask. Just trust me.
If we follow this simple manifesto, we can make for a more self-aware, laidback and hygienic SU community. And believe me, I know all about hygiene. After all, I am a douche bag.
Danny Fersh is a freshman broadcast journalism major. His columns appear weekly and he would like to thank Abram, Rachel, Sadler 6 and Sadler 2, and Rosie O’Donnell for not eating Barbara Walters quite yet. He can be reached at dafersh@syr.edu.
