Columns, Opinion

KIRLAND: Getting my wings

It’s not often I get to feel like a celebrity. It probably has to do with the fact that I’m not a celebrity. For example, I am still waiting for a response from Emma Watson-but I’m not exactly holding my breath.

Guys like me find our celebrity-ish experiences in the little moments in life like going to a sorority formal with someone out of our league, having someone recognize our names as columnists for The Daily Free Press, or a fellow partygoer congratulating us for being the guys who kicked ass in beer pong all night long. So, naturally, when I got invited to go on the Red Bull Party Bus to go see a Kings of Leon concert – for free as a member of the ‘Boston University media’-I felt pretty cool.

The nice BU Red Bull representative who invited me even gave me an extra ticket. Since I wasn’t able to find a hot date – give me some slack, I only had a couple days – I brought my buddy, Paul. Paul and I were equally amazed when we hopped aboard the Red Bull ‘Party Express’ as I like to call it. Even though it looked like a Greyhound bus on the outside, its interior felt more like a club in downtown Los Angeles.

The good people at Red Bull were nice enough to give me a free haircut aboard the Party Express. When they offered this ‘haircut,’ I was a little confused. They asked me to close my eyes, open my mouth, and lean my head backwards. Normally, I wouldn’t follow those directions from anyone who gave them to me, but since it was two good-looking female Red Bull representatives who asked, I made an exception. Just as I leaned back, closed my eyes, opened my mouth and expected to feel scissors separate my beautiful curly hair from my scalp, I tasted a mixture of vodka and Red Bull cola flowing into my mouth. It was the best haircut ever.

I don’t think Paul ever got the chance to get a haircut, but I was the celebrity that night. He was my entourage – and a good one at that. We did our best to lower our intellectual level – aided by my new haircut – and chat up some not-so-brilliant girls from Northeastern University. After one of these girls threw up out a window of the Party Express before we reached the concert, Paul and I decided to ditch our effort to dumb ourselves down.

After we smartened up, Paul and I simply enjoyed the scene. As the music bumped and the bus rocked, we took a seat and threw back some Red Bulls-and-Captain Morgans. It was entertaining to watch the dorky, yet fun, members of the Harvard and Boston College ‘media’ sway their hips in a humping – or what they thought to be ‘dancing’- motion and attempt to grind up against the aforementioned Northeastern girls. Classic.

The whole experience was a memorable one. I notice I didn’t mention the Kings of Leon concert – which was amazing in case you were wondering – but that’s not what the night was about.’ It was about guys like me getting one of those celebrity-ish memories. We all deserve those once in a while. Thanks, Red Bull.

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