Word: going
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...go...
...fair, Tufts made an effort. There was at least one more party there than there was at Harvard. And obviously, it was a poor decision to go out on Valentine’s Day, and for that we acknowledge the inevitability of the night’s outcome. Poor planning and lofty hopes rarely make for a rewarding night out. But then again, just getting out is sometimes rewarding enough...
Brandeis has a free shuttle bus (the Diamond Line) that runs from the school to Harvard Square, Boston, and back. I get on outside Boylston Gate to go to Brandeis, over Rubin’s protests (“Come, of course you should come, I want you to come, but I’m just saying that campus is dead tonight”). It’s the first of Brandeis’ two spring breaks, and many people are home. But Rubin and a few of his roommates are still there. The bus takes maybe half an hour...
...call Rubin once I arrive, and we go to his room. Rubin and I are from the part of Brooklyn that isn’t hipster yet, but it’s feeling the urges, and Rubin has on tight jeans and a white v-neck. His room is below ground in one of the sophomore dorms (you could say the basement) but it’s fantastic, a full lounge with couch and an enormous sound system, single bedrooms sprouting off to the side. Rubin’s own room is filled with music equipment; he?...
...without us noticing. We talk about girls. There’s one, Orli, whom a few of the present company (still all dudes) have been putting the moves on. One took her to the Boston Aquarium (he had free tickets), another out to dinner. Nothing. How does a girl go with you to the Aquarium and then nothing, we cried. I look at Rubin and ask him if she’s good looking. He rolls his eyes...