The 10 Worst People You’ll Meet In College

Guest article By Reptar

10)  Your freshman year roommate who never leaves the goddamn room – Look, we all enjoy a night in every once in a while.  Play some Madden, pop in a movie, catch up on some much-needed sleep.  It’s human nature.  What is not natural, however, is a roommate who never in fact leaves the room.  And never picks up his clothes, as he never does his laundry.

And never puts the remote control back in its proper place, as he’s been busy “Reba” all afternoon.  And never locks the door when he’s masturbating, which just makes it awkward for everyone when you stumble in at 3 a.m.  This roommate usually smells funny and weirds out all of your friends, so your choices for late-night fun with female acquantances are reduced to her room or bathroom – not because you mind him being in there, so much as you know he’ll probably be masturbating loudly in the bunk below.

9)  The girl who Facebooks you the morning after – It hasn’t even been a full six hours since you copulated, and she already sent you a Friend Request.  I’m sorry, babe, but was this supposed to be some kind of relationship?

Having unprotected sex doesn’t mean we care, it means we got hammered.  Hell, I didn’t even tell you my name.  How did you find me in the first place?  Did you see me with something else and proceed to comb through all 953 of their friends?  Seriously, don’t add me.  Don’t poke me or message me.  Most of all, don’t make eye contact with me ever again.  Because as I look through your pictures, I realize that my drunken stupor must have informed me that a unibrow and a cleft palette were completely acceptable, and I’m not proud of that.

8)  Professor Foreign Language - Some college courses are difficult enough without a language barrier.  Adding a Russian/Chinese/French/Madagascarian professor doesn’t help to ease the learning curve any more.  Take Dr. Doak from freshman year finite mathematics.  Of course his name wasn’t really Dr. Doak, you just call him that because his last name contains fourteen vowels you don’t have a phonetic understanding of, but the name looks close enough to that of the scientist who gives you a keycard on the Complex level of Goldeneye 64.

Chances are, given the subject matter, you weren’t going to learn much anyway.  But you learn so little from Dr. Doak, who obviously gained his affinity for mathematics during the Cold War when Soviet officers kidnapped him and forced him to calculate missile trajectories, that you stop going to class entirely.  Then comes the final, you need a B to pass, and all you can think about it how much you want to pistol-whip Dr. Doak with a PP7.

7)  Fratty McDouche – Everyone meets Fratty in some incarnation – Fratrick Dempsey, Frattie McDaniel, Frat King Cole…whatever.  You know him right away.  Pink polo (collar popped, of course), khakis, boat shoes.  Sometimes accessorized with a Livestrong bracelet or Aviators, mostly always sporting a tribal tattoo on his right bicep.  Fratty McDouche is the guy who spills his drink all over you and tells you to “watch where the fuck you’re going.”  Fratty McDouche is the guy who stops the music at every party in order to change the song to “Sweet Caroline.”

Fratty McDouche is the guy that’s always going to “fucking beat your ass”, but never quite does, mostly because even his douchtastic friends think he’s too douchy to fight for.  Fratty McDouches can be easily defused, though, by a quick pantsing – a juvenile antic sure, but if you can convince a drunk girl to do it for five bucks, the whole party will laugh this needle-dicked asshole back into his dad’s Beamer and preferably into a telephone pole at 83 miles per hour.

6)  The RA That Actually Gives a Shit – Ah, freshman year.  A wonderful time.  A time of new beginnings, new relationships and rampant alchol abuse.  For the first few days, you’ll try and keep it on the down-low because you think it’s still like high school.  But a blackout and stomach-pump later, and you’ll realize your alcohol tolerance was meant to be explored in this new setting.  And those in charge of monitoring said infractions actually don’t care.  Hell, half the time, they’ll even drink with you.  And then, a few months later, when all the rules seem set in stone, you’ll be in someone’s room two floors down.  You won’t even be getting wasted, you’ll just be drinking a little and watching the NBA All-Star Skills Challenge for some reason.  And at the exact time that red Solo cup meets your lips, you will meet the RA that actually gives a shit.

It appears he’s been living in the broom closet for the past few months, and is anxious to dispense as many drinking citations as possible.  If it’s any consolation, though, it’s probably because he has a bad case of blue-balls due to the fact that nobody ever wants to hook up with people who practice responsibility.  Replace “get in the back of the van” with “get back to your dorm room” for an example.

5)  The Girl Who Has No Shame – Maybe she’ll be in your Friday afternoon discussion class, maybe she’ll be a friend of a friend of your roommate, or maybe you’ll just happen to be in the kitchen at some random party mixing a drink at the same time she is.  Wherever she is, you’ll meet her.  And she’ll seem friendly enough at first.  Since you’re not a complete asshole, you’ll try to humor her by feigning interest.  Then, out of nowhere, she’ll stop go Shock and Awe all over your soul with her tragic life stories.  You see, her boyfriend died in a car accident a few years back, and he was the only person she had ever loved.  Loving was hard for her, as she was repeatedly molested by close family members growing up, and grew an immediate distrust for men.

This came to a tragic climax when she was violently raped by an off-duty mime while visiting Baltimore for her grandmother’s funeral, a memory destined to be drowned in a swirling sea of methamphetamine.  But she’s been clean for a few months now, and she’s come to terms with her unfortunate past – turns out, she was forced to see Uncle Tickle Fingers at the three-year memorial of her kid brother’s drowning, and forgave him for his explorative trespasses.  By the time she finishes telling you her life story, you’ll feel so bad that you’ll want to end your own life.  Seriously, who shares these things on a first meeting?  In public?  Shit, the worst thing that ever happened to you was the time you let brace-face go down on you back in high school, and still haven’t forgotten what a nick to the knob feels like to this day.

4)  The Activist – The activist is especially annoying because he/she seems to surface in at least one class per semester.  The activist is usually wrong about everything, but not afraid to voice his opinion.  You may not particularly give a shit about endangered snow leopards, global warming, homeless people, wars in insignificant countries or the merits of veganism, but the activist sure does!  And the activist will voice his opinion at every presented opportunity.  The question may be about the imperfect subjunctive, or the methods in which last night’s reading characterized the concept of whiteness, but his answer will have nothing to do with those things.

No, his answer will directly relate to the core of that which you consider stupid, trite, insignificant or otherwise reserved for people who really need to get laid.  Even worse, the professor usually encourages him, mistaking his banality for enthusiasm, and you’ll spend the next 20 minutes never actually learning anything that will be on your next exam, but rather, listening to the activist spout off the most fucking worthless opinions in the history of fucking worthless opinions.  Thankfully, though, the activist is usually a huge pussy, and you needn’t fear retaliation should you decide to check him into the wall on the way out of class.

3)  Froshy McDouche – Froshy McDouche is a distant relative of Fratty McDouche, but related nonetheless.  He’s probably pledging for Fratty McDouche’s fraternity, but still relegated to cleaning up puke and eating cum muffins for breakfast.  Froshy McDouche thinks he’s the shit because he’s finally away from the folks and living it up in college.

He usually shows up to lectures about ten minutes late and picks the seat in the middle of the aisle, causing everyone else to move their bookbags so that Froshy can squirm his sagging Hollister jeans down the aisle.  When he finally sits down, he’ll likely spend the next hour participating in a muted video chat on his MacBook that he received as a graduation present.  If you look closely enough at his computer, you’ll see that the friends he is video-chatting with actually look douchier than he does, and are usually passing a bottle of Grey Goose back and forth remarking on how “fucking awesome” college is.  When you have an exam, Froshy will slide up next to you – upperclassman looking sage that you are – and snidely remark that he didn’t study and is probably going to fail.  You should take this as a signal to knee him in the balls and pass him down the aisle for a succession of ass-kickery, informing him that he has already failed…at life.

2)  Girl Who Asks Retarded Questions – Similar to the activist, the girl who asks retarded questions is overly vocal.  A chart of her classroom activity would show a direct correlation between her speaking and the world getting just a little bit more retarded as a result.  She’ll often ask questions like “what was that again?” on a point that has been elaborate a half-dozen times, or clarify that she “wasn’t here last class, what did we talk about” in reference to new subject matter she is not familiar with.

Worst of all, though, are exam days.  She’s usually the one that bombards the professor as soon as he walks in with such gems as “is this going to be hard?”, “do we need to put our names on this?” or my personal favorite “do we have to use complete sentences?”  No, retarded girl.  We have been forced into the educational system for 14 years just to form incomplete thoughts and jot random musings down in our blue books.  The professor is hoping that you will answer with pictures or glyphs, or better yet, draw a treasure map that ends with you contracting ebola.  Dumb ass.

1)  Your Future Ex-Husband – “Remember how much fun we had in college?” she’ll ask.  “Remember when you used to love me?”  Bitch, I was blazed as shit half the time, and the other half I divied up between horniness and emotional insecurity.  I’m a man now.  I have like eight nipple hairs, and I can grow hair on that one place along my jawline that used to be a bald spot.  My alcoholic shortcomings in college?  Please.  Long since passed.  I’m now downing a 24-pack a day in lieu of doing things like ‘working’ or ‘contributing to society.’  I took a shit on the sofa today.  Seriously.  I was that fucking lazy.

And you’re going to begrudge me for these things?  Well, gee, honey, I’m so-o-ory my degree in Informatics didn’t actually get me shit in the real world but a cashier position at Best Buy which I stopped showing up to after a week.  I’m so sorry that the real world looks down upon constant inebriation and spousal abuse.  Not my fucking fault, is it?  Now shut the hell up and go get me a goddamn cold one before I use this television remote to crack your skull.  “Remember how much fun we had in college?”  Psshtt, I’m still having fun.  I’m still living by my own rules.  Oh, and by the way, I forgot to pay the electric bill again.  I think we’ll make it through Seinfeld, but all bets are off after that.  (Note that the ‘ex’ in question is probably of McDouche lineage.)

Be sure to check out Reptar’s last article – 10 Pre-Climas Lines (what not to say)

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