This time next week, I’ll be a 21-year-old man. I’m positive about the 21-year-old part – and not so positive about the ‘man’ part. I doubt the transformation from a 12-year-old inside my post-pubescent, post-teenaged body into that of a mature upper-classman takes place over night. Either way – I’ll be fully legal on Monday. I still won’t be able to rent any car outside a Zipcar, but I’m not going to lose any sleep over that. However, I will lose sleep over the things I wish I had done when I was under the legal drinking age.
I wish I stood up to the director of housing for West Campus when I got in trouble for drinking in my room at Sleeper Hall freshman year. I was on probation for most of the year because I had 11 people and 20 beers in my room. The director – whom I won’t name – made me feel like a convict. She interviewed everyone involved and then had private meetings with me to discuss the ‘grave situation.’ I’d like to say to any freshmen reading: Fight the man. Top me and have 13 people and 30 beers in your room. Fight on, freshmen.
Although it was a buzz kill to get in trouble for drinking illegally at Boston University, I secretly wish I had gotten a drinking ticket when I was in high school. I mean, I think telling stories about drinking tickets in high school made you sound like a bad ass. I’ve had cops visit high school ragers I threw – and don’t get me wrong, it sucked – but I don’t have any solid certificate of badassness. I would have framed the ticket.
Another thing I wish I had done is tried to use my fake I.D. on an airplane. Every time I fly home for breaks I’m hung over or still drunk anyway. It would have been fun to order a glass of wine and use my liquid confidence to chat up some lonely cougar -all the while grinning because not only am I too young for the Demi Moore-type, I’m not even old enough to be drinking.
I don’t know if the cougar situation would have worked out. But, going to Europe before I was 21 would have been cool. I’m sure it would have felt awesome to walk into an Irish pub – as an 18-year-old – and order a pint of Guinness. It would’ve been a thrill to throw back some brews legally an ocean away from my beloved country that lets me vote, drive and go to war before I can drink.
I guess that pretty much wraps up all the things I missed out on as an underage drinker. My advice to all of those under 21 is to always fight the man.’ Take any and every opportunity you get to drink on planes and hit on cougars. Get a drinking ticket. Go to Europe. Enjoy the thrill of drinking illegally because there isn’t a birthday to look forward to after you turn 21-unless you’re desperate to rent a car.’