One thing I never had a chance to do during my time at Cornell was be a tour guide for prospective students and their parents. I guess at this point it’s a little too late to apply for a tour guide position, although I have a feeling that I’m not exactly the type of person they’re looking for anyway. Fortunately, I have this column where I can do whatever the hell I want. That’s right, folks. I’m going to conduct my own little hypothetical tour of Cornell right here, right now. Here’s how I imagine it would all go down:
Me: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Cornell University — where it snows in April and the Greek letters on your hoodie determine how cool you are. Before we get started on our tour, are there any questions?
High Schooler: Yes. I got a 2380 on my SATs, am student council president and the editor-in-chief of my high school newspaper. Do you think I will get accepted to Cornell?
Me: Are you a legacy?
High Schooler: No.
Me: Are you an athlete?
High Schooler: No.
Me: Are you an Alaska Native, American Indian, Native Hawaiian or other Pacific Islander?
High Schooler: No.
Me: Then you’re screwed. Any more questions?
Concerned Parent: What’s the average student-to-teacher ratio here? I want to make sure my child is in a productive learning environment.
Me: This question is irrelevant. Students don’t care about learning these days. Everyone brings their laptops to class and spends the whole time going on Facebook and Twitter. Or they play Angry Birds on their Smartphones.
Concerned Parent: But —
Me: Okay, enough with the questions. Let’s get this show on the road. Our first stop …
Me: This is home to my major, Applied Economics and Management, which is in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences. It’s always mad hot in here, but apparently the administrators are finally going to put in air conditioning after I graduate just to spite me.
High Schooler: Why is there a business program in an agriculture school? That makes no sense.
Me: Actually, AEM is now in the Dyson School, which is inside of the Agriculture School. It’s kinda like the movie Inception. Or if I may make an obsolete candy reference — we’re like the Nestle Wonder Ball of undergraduate business programs.
High Schooler: What’s the Nestle Wonder Ball?
Me: It was the greatest candy ever, but they stopped producing it in 2004, unfortunately.
Call Auditorium at Kennedy Hall
Me: Man, I’ve had so many classes here and, consequently, have bombed so many prelims in this auditorium. It’s pretty crazy to think about. Also, last semester I took Media Comm here, and my assigned seat was in the middle of one of the rows. Every time I would try to get to my seat, there was this one douchebag guy near the aisle who would never move his feet or his backpack to let me get through. That guy was a huge asshole, and I really hope he’s reading this right now.
The Trillium Sandwich Line
Me: Here at Trillium, it’s important to position yourself in the sandwich line so you get the good sandwich lady and not one of the subpar sandwich people. This one sandwich lady is like the Babe Ruth of sandwich ladies. So the trick is to calculate which sandwich lady you will get based on your spot in the line. Wait … she just went in the back to grab more lettuce. We’re gonna have to recalculate our positions, folks. Bear with me.
The Statler Hall Auditorium
Me: This is the place where YouTube history was made. I’m sure all of you are familiar with the viral video, “Cornell Professor Outbursts at a Student’s ‘Overly Loud’ Yawn”?
[Everyone shakes their heads.]
Me: Hmm, well, I guess you guys aren’t YouTube historians like myself. But trust me, this was one of the most significant events in recent Cornell history, right up there with Bob Saget fake-pledging Seal and Serpent and me getting my own Sun column.
The C-Town Bars
Me: … And on your right you’ll see the Royal Palm Tavern, although it’s far from being a “royal” establishment, folks. [*Fake laugh*] But when Palms O’Clock rolls around, this place can get pretty wild.
Concerned Parent: Aren’t you going to take us to one of the Cornell libraries?
Me: Hmm, a library … Well, Rulloff’s has some old, random books on their shelves, so I guess that’s basically like a library. Or if you want to go to a place where you can be alone to study, Pixel is good for that. No one goes in there because it’s in a sketchy alleyway.
Me: This is where I first learned how to drunkenly grind with a girl on a sweaty dance floor — probably the most important skill you will acquire during your time at Cornell. I’m not too good with math, but I would estimate that I’ve grinded with at least 20,000 girls throughout my Cornell career.
High Schooler: Cornell doesn’t even have 20,000 female students.
Me: You’re one of those overachievers, aren’t you? Man, I’m really starting to regret conducting this hypothetical tour of Cornell.
· This is my penultimate column. I learned the word “penultimate” from a Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows trailer.
· Here’s a fun way to really mess with a tour group: Put on a “Class of ’78” baseball cap, a bunch of ragged clothing and a long, fake beard and run up to a tour group while you wave your arms around screaming, “GET OUT OF HERE! ESCAPE WHILE YOU STILL CAN!” I do this all the time, and it’s a blast. Actually, I probably shouldn’t be telling you any of this.
· Stay tuned for the thrilling series finale of Taking My Talents to C-Town that will air two weeks from now. Secrets will be revealed, promises will be broken and I may finally get with one of the sex columnists. UNTIL NEXT TIME …
Corey Brezak is a senior in the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences. He may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org. Taking My Talents to C-Town appears alternate Mondays this semester.
Original Author: Corey Brezak