Surviving College

Shaan Goragandhi

“Lauren! Come down!” I yelled up from the bottom of the staircase. “I want to tell you a story and impart some crucial wisdom!” My daughter ran downstairs and sat on the couch ready to listen. “I know that you're excited for college, but I have some valuable experiences I feel I need to share with you.”

“Uhhh, Dad, how long will this take? I need to finish packing,” complained my only daughter. 

“I know you’re excited about leaving home, but I actually lived in a college dorm for four years and let me tell you, it's not always what you think it will be.” I began sharing my expertise of living on campus. I knew many years had passed since my college days, but I was sure that the story I was about to narrate had foresight that still held true today. 

“Lesson numero uno: college classes are a bit different.” I recalled my first day of Trigonometry class like it was yesterday. In high school, my favorite subject was math, but college math was quite different. Mind you, that the only reason I loved math so dearly was because it always had one correct answer. 

“Good morning Professor Donato!” 

“Please sit down.” Now. . .” My professor’s voice sounded something like when you pinch your nose with your fingers and speak. I had noticed a weird voodoo doll on top of Professor Donato’s desk. But more importantly, my teacher had entirely rejected my invitation for a good morning, and didn’t even make eye contact with me. This is going to be a rough class, I thought to myself. “Hello class, today we are going to learn how to solve Trigonometry type equations.” I quickly started writing down everything she said. “Now this type of math has multiple answers, and we are going to write our results in paragraph format.” My pencil dropped and I looked straight at the teacher. 

Para-Para-Paragraph format, multiple answers! I did not pay attention from that point forward in the class. I had instantly hated the teacher and now realized that math class was going to be very annoying.

“Hey Daniel, I dare you to ask the teacher to repeat what she said,” some random kid I never met whispered, sinisterly. But, before the kid could make a peep, my hand was in the sky.

“What,  a student?!” yelled the teacher, across the entire classroom.

“Um--” I muttered

“Is that all you have to say . . . UM!” screamed my teacher. Her voice was even louder and grumpiery than before.

“No Mom. I mean ma’am. Um . . . Why are there multiple answers?”

“All will be revealed later!” This is my least favorite thing about teachers. They always say they will do something or are doing something, but it takes 300 years. Students like me just couldn’t control our stress levels. If you had a scale from one to ten, mine would be 13, when that event occurred.

“Is that really true?” asked Lauren.

“What?” I responded.

“Is that really true? What you just said.”

“Yes, everything you hear is from a first hand experience.”

“Lesson number two: beware of bathrooms. ” Chances are you will have a community bathroom, so when you shower, make sure you have some form of foot protection. Other people in the dorm will do unholy things on the floor from vomiting every Friday night to ritual goat sacrifices in the showers. “This lesson I painstakingly learned my first year in the dorms,” I lamented. Since no one had warned me about this well known fact, I did not pack the appropriate shower slippers and developed all kinds of foot fungus by the end of freshman year. “Whatever you do, do not assume your dorm shower is sanitary.” 

“Gross, thanks for the tip dad,” said Lauren. 

Lesson number three: don’t even bother with laundry. During my first week of living in the dorms, I naively attempted to wash my clothes, only to discover it was a pointless task that only led to embarrassment and frustration. 

“You will notice that any time you enter the laundry room, all the washers and dryers will be taken.” I evoked an embarrassing tale of my first week on campus:

When I found a washer with only 5 mins left in the cycle, I graciously  

decided to wait, but the person never came. The situation left me with no choice but to take the person’s clothes out for them. In the middle of taking out the clothes, the owner of the clothes walked in only to see me holding their soggy underwear. I awkwardly mumbled something about how I needed to use the washer and got out of their way quickly. The tension between us was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. 

I came back a few minutesmins later and finished placing my clothes in the washer and  

eventually the dryer. Things appeared to be going smoothly. However, when I returned to collect my clothes from the dryer, I noticed someone had removed my clothes and placed them in the basket so they could load their own clothes in the dryer. At first, I thought that’s fine, no big deal. But, as I was going through my laundry, I realized that the dorm room dryers stunkstink and that my clothes were removed while they were still damp. I was annoyed because the dryer I was using was now taken and none of the others were available. I carried my basket of damp clothes and slowly walked back to my room accepting defeat.     

     “Ohhhh, dad, I’m so sorry. I will remember to save my laundry for when I come home to visit you,” said Lauren. 

“Lesson number four: dorm nightlife can be a challenge. Basically, right when you are trying to go to bed, all of your floormates will come out of their room and play the slam the door and run down the hall game. I’ve never played it myself, but I assumed that’s what they were doing based on the noises I heard in the hallways. I could not fall asleep. 

“Those floormates of mine had ruined my sleeping schedule and I would not let this slide. They had tortured me and I have hidden under the shadows for way too long. This was an atrocity and it deserved to be shown justice. That day I had claimed that this madness would be put to an end!” I exclaimed.

“Hey Dad, please stop the Independence Day movie quotes!” Lauren pleaded.

“Sorry about that,” I shyly muttered back. 

Since I was going to bed when everyone else seemed to be playing games in the hall, I woke up before them. So as soon as I got up in the morning, I decided it was my job to serenade them with the soothing sounds of HEAVY DEATH METAL ROCK as loud as I could. 

“After that moment, I had gotten my shut-eye and nobody bothered me again! Mu! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” I cackled gloriously until I realized that my kid was still watching, “Oh, uh, you’re still here.”

“Yes, Dad I’m still here!” scolded my daughter.

“Well, after listening to my fascinating advice, do you understand that almost everything in the world, including college dorm life, isn’t always as it seems.” 

“Yes, Dad!”

“Good . . . now that you are fully prepared, go pack your bag and get ready for some of the greatest years of your life.”