So this story is a bit dated (4 years +) but it's interesting.
Yes I was in a fraternity, in fact I was president of the largest fraternity on my college campus. No, we were not an academic frat. We were exactly like you would imagine a fraternity, a bunch of rowdy assholes (some more than others), although unlike most fraternities, we gave nothing back to the community or the campus.
Me being in a frat should come as no surprise. I like girls, I like booze, I like people. I would probably give my left kidney to be able to attend a fraternity/sorority "mixer" again. I was like Gretzky at those things, automatic if you will. I miss a few of my close "bros" (said ironically) but other than those things, I barely remember what it was like.
I do remember how I got the boot though.
I became President of the frat in a time of turmoil (much like Barry Obama and America) and I was determined to right the ship. In terms of campus relations we were on thin ice for a variety of reasons (hazing, no community service, etc) and we had some other bogus violations.
I thought at first I did a good job as Prez. I wrote a 35 page booklet on why hazing was bad in a span of 4 hours for the campus Greek officials, even though I had a month to do it I could never bring myself to do anything early. I traveled to Kentucky and to Denver to national fraternity meetings and endured countless meetings with "advisers" and other adults who were still committed to the fraternity for some ungodly reason. I even made a speech at one of those meetings in front of 200 or so people where I shed a tear as I told the audience about my chapters hardships. I fucking cried in front of people, although I attribute it to the massive, post-adderall, hands shaking uncontrollably, running shits hangover I had.
Okay, so here's why I got the boot.
I was irresponsible with money, was then, am now. I had control of the frat credit card and thousands of dollars. Here are the bad ones:
600 dollar withdrawal on the credit line. Hired two strippers for the fraternity for 2 Hundo. Took the other 400 and went around to 8 gas stations where I traded in all of the twenties for one dollar bills. It was a fun night
48 dollar tab at a bar. Met two strippers, bought them shots in an effort to get them to hook up with a brother whose b-day it was. It worked better than expected. There is definitely still a picture of my bare ass, a naked stripper on the bed and an unidentified brother in the background. I hope that doesn't surface when I become famous.
78 dollar tab at a nice seafood restaurant on the beach. I met a black girl, I had never dated a black girl at this point. I needed money. Heeellllloooo Gold AMEX card! And no I didn't take her to seafood cause she was black and the whole stereotype with the popcorn shrimp and the, wait, umm, it was a fucking coastal town, fresh fish, fuck never mind.
189 dollars at Meineke. My car broke down, it was college, I was broke. This was the straw that shattered the camels back.
What to take from this anecdote:
I infrequently compare myself to Barack Obama and Wayne Gretzky. I was in a frat and I'm not anymore. I never call anyone bro. I don't wear and never wore orange hats, croakies, khakis or boat shoes. I did used to stand on the couch at house parties and lead everyone in a stirring rendition of "Dixieland Delight". I was involved with more strippers then than I am now, and I'm a god damn bartender now! What the fuck?! I miss college, hence my Peter Pan lifestyle and this poor excuse for a blog.
Now, believe it or not, I'm going to Paper Moon (local strip club) tonight. A friend texted as I wrote this and asked me to go, and after this blog post I am so ready. Just gotta hit Exxon first and trade in a few of these 20 spots for a lot of George Washingtons.
Other JGF college-related blog posts: "MyCollege Degree Has Become Obsolete."