Last week was Labor Day weekend I hope you had a great three day weekend. I hung around with the fam and in general had a really good time. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I live near and work at a university. A pretty big one. In the last few weeks we’ve endured the onslaught of new arrivals and returning students.
This means the roads are once again busy and the parking lots full to over flowing; while freshmen some bright eyed and bushy tailed, others hung over and bleary eyed wander the campus and the surrounding area. Which means as I live so close, I do a whole lot of interacting with the collegiate masses.
I was in our local supermarket, which is frequented by said masses this Saturday. Standing in the cookie aisle staring at my list hoping that the word cookies would appear magically on the list. I needed to justify the purchase of two packs of Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies, OK. (My treadmill is glaring at me as I type this).
Anyway I was minding my own business, while automatically avoiding the various groups of college aged guys who were shopping for sustenance when I heard, “Dude this is why you don’t come shopping when you’re baked.” This came out of the mouth of one stocky dark haired individual as he moved down the aisle followed by his supposedly baked friend. A friend who gazed up and down the aisle as if he was holding onto to his control by a thread. His guardian angel walked ahead of him head bent staring at his phone. “Dude, you barely have any money.” Which made me chuckle and made me grateful at least one of them appeared to be sober.
Now I began to look around. I was in a store with a variety of people, but mostly college aged guys in packs of three and four. It was game day and there was much ice, beer, wings and frozen pizza being bought. But it got me thinking what if the stoner wasn’t stoned what if that was his cover for being a hormonal, high calorie intake paranormal male.
What happens when you’re trying to fit in and eat way more than the average human male between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one? How do you hide it? Do you hide it? Does your roommate wake up in the middle of the night to find you devouring raw meat in the kitchen?