**This post has been delayed from its original publication date and as such may be a little laggy in terms of the time setting.**
For a special episode of the STORIES series, I decided to go with a guest writer. I know we don’t really do this, but I think it’s necessary because of the unusual circumstances that I just found myself in.
I ran into someone I haven’t seen since 2013. That’s right, it’s almost been a year… Anyway, I was walking down Locust, and suddenly I just see a very familiar face. It was Evan – so I said HEY and we started chatting. After a couple minutes of this I realized… this just has to get written down somewhere, and published because this is a kind of story we just don’t have on the blog.
So I asked Evan if he would write up his story of Sophomore Fall and send it to me. He’s been reading the blog for awhile and was down with the idea – “sounds dope, bro” – so after some (heavy) editing, I’ve prepared his story to share with the world.
Be warned, readers – Evan doesn’t half-ass life.
Whattup DRR. I’m not sure how to introduce myself really but I’m Evan. I go to Penn with Q (that’s me, George), who was my roommate Sophomore year at the Academy and one of my good friends along with Fred. In terms of personality I’m pretty much a boss. I do crew and spend the most of the rest of my time in the gym. Weekends are for partying and parties are for drinking, poppin’ mollies, and finding girls. My GPA is pretty solid but as you might be able to tell it’s not exactly a priority.
The reason I haven’t seen Q in awhile is because of rushing and pledging last semester, and then lots of Greek events this fall. To be honest, I’ve been busy as fuck but hopefully I’m almost through the time-consuming part.
Pretty sure I’m here to tell some better stories than “man my life is busy” though. See, when I was talking to Q I was mainly telling about this fall, which… well, lemme start from the top.
I did summer courses this summer, so I was home for a few weeks between the last session of summer classes and the start of fall semester. I really should’ve spent it sleeping, but dude – the parties were ridiculous, and when there wasn’t a party I found my old Connecticut buddies and got high. A lot. Asked Q to join a few times, but he’s too much of a [wow… I’m gonna censor that] to join.
So I got back to school and since I’m actually kind of lazy sometimes I signed up for Tinder. I’m photogenic and it’s too much effort to go out and meet people. Bring ’em to the D through the phone, y’know? It’s super easy and so are the girls. Had a couple numbers within an hour, and immediately proceeded to ignore everyone for a few days.
First weekend I called up Meri, who based on my scrutiny was the most smokin’ of the girls I’d matched with. She wanted me to come over and “cuddle.” That seemed to be a code word based on the fact that – while I watched carefully – she dropped her shirt and bra to the floor in quick succession and asked if I wanted a taste. (Which I did.) [Evan’s thousand-word description of Meri’s breasts has been redacted for the sake of… all our readers, but I chuckled at the line “Her future husband is as lucky as her back isn’t.”) The night continued on for a few more hours. Without going into too many details… let’s just say there was a lot of sucking involved. After all, I had a lot of surface area to cover. And so did she… hehe, I mean- [Evan’s two-thousand-word ode to his own penis has been redacted, since in addition to being way too long (the description, not the penis) it appears to plagiarize a number of lines from the song “Anaconda” by Nicki Minaj. We may also need fact-checking on the claim that “it’s an entirely new species of dick, like an X-Man dick, like a wolverine dick because when I get up it feels like there’s adamantium in there,” and that it “once swallowed a squirrel whole and shat him out through my testicles.”]
I saw Meri a couple more times, but she turned out to be into something that came a little too close to rape-fantasy for me, so I broke things off. She kept messaging me for like a week, then finally gave up. Clearly I gave off the wrong first impression. Glad she got the message eventually.
Uh… George wanted me to cover everything, but to be honest I don’t remember the next couple weeks. I spent a weekend in the hospital. No big deal in the end. Let’s move on. [Yet another editor’s note: Evan wouldn’t tell me anything more about this, but I asked another friend at Penn from the Academy, who said that it was probably “from the weekend where he did all that coke at that party?” but then added “but that probably doesn’t narrow it down too much…”]
Evan’s story will continue in “Evan, Part 2: …The Sophomore They Fall.”