CVS really has college kids all figured out. As a company, it is aware of our laziness factor, and thus, the chain conveniently opened not one but two CVSs on campus. It’s like you’re walking down the street, feeling fine, but then you pass a CVS. All of a sudden you think, ‘Hmmm, maybe my throat hurts. I think I need cough drops,’ or, ‘Wow, my Discman batteries are half used-up. I don’t want them to run out on the five-minute walk to class. Yup, better go get some.’ Before you know it, you have been sucked in to the CVS, and you have a basket. You’re buying throat drops, batteries, glow-in-the-dark condoms, shampoo and a pack of gum … and you’re late for class. The line at CVS is always out of hand. There are always just two people working the counter, and about 30 people standing with their baskets, waiting. Standing in line is the worst, because then everybody starts to look around to see what everyone else is buying. This could really destroy you on a college campus. If you’re buying a cream for the rash that has been spreading down your thigh, do yourself a favor and just pay in the back at the pharmacy counter. Otherwise, it’s just an embarrassing situation for everyone. Last time I was waiting on line, I saw this girl buying Monistat. I sent her a sympathy glance. Wow, that sucks, girl. As a college student, I’m always worried about money. Do I have enough money for rent? Do I have enough money for books? Do I have enough money for alcohol? These are the things that keep me up at night. Yet even with all these worries, I refuse to get a CVS card. Ever notice that whenever you go in to CVS, they try to pitch their card to you? It doesn’t cost anything. It saves money, but there’s something in you that resists. You think, ‘If I sign up now, they’ll find me. Before I know it, CVS will be knocking on my door at night, forcing me to buy ointments for conditions I didn’t know existed. Yeah, no thanks.’ The clothing industry isn’t quite as advanced as CVS in terms of catering toward college students. Ever feel like there just isn’t a store that fits? One day you realize, ‘I’ve been wearing Abercrombie since I was 13, it might be time to move on.’ Then the minute you step in to Brooks Brothers or Anne Taylor, you get the sickening feeling that you are becoming your parents. As you search frantically for the nearest exit, you start to visualize yourself wearing loafers and listening to Kenny G albums. One store that concerns me is Express Men. One day, it’s Structure. The next day, you can’t tell if your boyfriend is wearing your super-low rise jeans or his. It’s all a blur, and you just wish things would go back to the way they were. You know, the days before coed fashions and CVS cards. Certain companies don’t market toward college students because we don’t have a stable income. In high school, mom and dad would buy clothing, cars-you name it. After college, you hopefully have a ‘real’ job and can afford your first palm-pilot and Ikea sofa. The four years of college are the lost years in marketing: nobody wants to deal with us except for cheap spring-break cruise lines and that Red Bull energy drink. Last year during finals, I caved and bought a few cans of Red Bull to help pull me through a rough night of studying psychology. Don’t believe the hype. I fell asleep face down in my book, somewhere between Freud and the Oedipus complex. Why is it that we are so ignored? I have a feeling that if clothing companies and car manufacturers came to the BU campus, they would change their marketing strategies immediately. Many of my friends go to schools where students wear T-shirts and sweatshirts with the college’s logo on it; if this were true, I would go to Louis Vuitton University. Car companies could do wonders with BU students as well. Just a week ago, I was almost run over by a student driving an Escalade down Commonwealth Avenue. I couldn’t tell if I was still on campus or stuck in a really bad rap video. For the price of that car, I could pay for two years’ tuition, rent a nice apartment downtown, and would never, ever have to buy Shaw’s brand pasta, which is what I ate last night for dinner. The point is, college students present a market that is considered a risk by many companies. For example, a retailer that promotes sophistication would lose its prestige if it marketed toward a younger age group. Strategists would rather focus on obtaining older, wealthier cliental. In other words, they’ll get to us later. For now, it’s Red Bull and CVS.