Campus Geographic. . .

Today when I was at the gym, I ran into someone that I went to high school with. I hadn’t seen the person in almost four years. Isn’t it funny how when you run into someone from high school, they act like the two of you were best friends? Rather than the awkward two minute conversation that ensues where they ask you about school and your life, I’d rather just state the obvious: you never spoke one word to me in all four years of high school because I was a huge nerd and you were too popular to be seen with me. So lets not make with the small talk, a simple nod of acknowledgement will do and then go about your business. Anyway, if there’s one place to not be seen by someone you know it’s at the gym. First off, let me just say that I let out a freakishly large amount of body liquids. Peeing, sweating, you name it. Seriously. I sweat more than the entire 2004 U.S. Olympic men’s lacrosse team. I don’t know if there even is a U.S. Olympic men’s lacrosse team, but what the hell.

The gym is what I like to think of as a sanctuary of sorts—I don’t feel the need to look good because I’m just going to become a disgusting ball of sweat. However, I’m definitely beginning to reconsider my stance on this. Not only the whole running-into-someone-you-know thing, but what the fuck is up with campus tours that take people right through the gym? I was lying on a mat doing sit-ups when a huge group of high schoolers walks over and circles around me. The tour guide just kept going on about the architecture of the building. I half-expected him to turn to me and be like:

“You’ll notice The College Student in her natural habitat. Please note the slight bulge of the abdomen from the excessive beer-intake. The College Student survives on a steady diet of Natural Light and Easy Mac. You’ll also notice the shiny hair. No, that’s not from a stream of vitamins and minerals—it’s because she hasn’t washed her hair in four days. If you get close enough, you might actually be able to smell the intoxicating aroma of Jimmy John’s day-old bread from last night’s 2 a.m. drunken eating binge after a trip to the bar. However, don’t get too close. The College Student has been known to lash out and eat anything that resembles a homecooked meal—such as the flesh off your own finger, a ZipLock container of Thanksgiving leftovers that her roommate forgot about and has been sitting in the back of the fridge since November and stray cats.”

This is why, from now on, when I got to the gym, I’m going to dress in a micro-mini and a low-cut halter top.