The life of the college student includes a multitude of things—classes, sporting events and student organizations. A part of student life that is buried under all of this is the partying that occurs once the weekend is upon us. I decided to detail a typical experience. People do not like to discuss this topic openly because this is, after all, a place of higher education.
I have decided to give those not in the know a glimpse of the nightlife at Marquette through the eyes of yours truly.
The night begins with me deciding what to wear. I look in my closet and see things too dressy or too casual. I decide on jeans, a polo shirt and loafers because athletic shoes are not in this year. I call a friend or two and we head out to see what Marquette has to offer.
The first place we enter is a house party at Renee Row. The party is filled with intoxicated Neanderthals and women who love them. I notice a young woman I have class with but pretend not to see her because there is no need to make friends with a drunk. She runs over to me and pretends to befriend me despite both of us knowing she will ignore my very existence on Monday.
She leaves me to go vomit up the absurd amount of alcohol she drank about the same time a new person with beer coming out of his pores walks up and says, "Here's a brew bro." I take the drink and hand it off to someone nearby. I find my friends and let them know it is time to leave.
We decide to make a stop at Murphy's before going to another party. Inside Murphy's the older alcoholics on campus are convening. We look for the drunkest person there because it is more likely that they will buy you a drink, as they have no control of the part of the brain that says 'no'. After getting the free drinks, we head to an apartment party held by one of my acquaintances. We enter the party and it immediately feels like a sauna.
The party is packed with what looks like the entire ethnic population of Marquette; I assume the diversity push is working. Out of the 40 or so women who are there, about four are attractive. I head to the bar area because that's my usual spot to see everything and watch as the people dance inside the sardine can to obnoxious southern rap music. I see the one woman that catches my eye as she dances with a voluptuously curvaceous body, brown eyes and a wonderful smile.
I see various drunken men vie for her attention, but the aggressiveness turns her off. I approach with apprehensiveness knowing my wingmen are doing things that will be the topic of laughter with photos on Facebook. Unlike my counterparts, I approach the mystery woman with confidence and suggest she call me later to hang out, putting the ball in her court.
The party starts to die down and I begin my walk back to my apartment. I see public safety holding a student as he vomits from alcohol poisoning, and I wonder if this campus can have fun without drinking. I walk past random yells and mindless freshmen excited about absolutely nothing. I enter my apartment, take off my jacket and check my e-mail. I sit and ask myself 'what am I doing here?' and look forward to the next phase of my life. That is a look into the nightlife at Marquette from my perspective. It may not be how you see things, but hey, you may be too drunk to remember.