“And I don’t mean to be a bitch or anything, but you just better turn your music ****ing DOWN!” At this point, my friend “Holly” was so angry that she quickly stabbed her X-acto knife down into the cutting mat on her desk. The room instantly grew quiet.

I was sitting on her bed, watching this pleasant exchange of words between her and a kid from the room directly above us who was constantly blasting his rock music. I could definitely see how this would become irritating after a while, especially with the bass volume being so high that it felt like my organs were vibrating to the music. Apparently his behavior had been going on for about a week or so, and Holly was sick of hearing Guns N’ Roses playing constantly when she was trying to study or sleep; since her roommate didn’t care either way about it (or anything, really), my friend confronted him about his loud music. But we had not expected him to be so rude and discourteous! After my friend’s charade with the knife, the kid was pretty quick to leave. But within a few minutes a couple of his friends showed up and started the same argument, looking as though they were desperate for any kind of fight. Holly and I were scared and nervous, because we didn’t even know these guys and we weren’t sure what they were going to do. Our friend “Mike,” who was also in the room, defended our argument and tried to make them leave. The way they were shouting at each other made me even more worried; they became louder and louder, and their arguing grew more intense. The fight would turn physical at any moment…

Holly’s reaction with her knife is actually what scared me the most out of everything that happened; although she didn’t harm anyone, I am not used to seeing her act in that violent way. It is kind of scary – I’ve known Holly since we were very young, and she’s always been a calm person. Though it seemed as if her reaction was out of her control or out of instinct, I think that she chose to do this. And her action was not even as drastic as it potentially could have been; it made me wonder what someone else would do in her situation. If it was someone who is not as calm or tends to be aggressive, something much worse may have happened. After that night, I started to wonder, ‘why are these kids choosing to be violent?’ Usually people will do whatever it takes to avoid a conflict. But this situation was the opposite – those two kids actually went out of their way to start a fight with people they didn’t know, over something ridiculous like playing music too loud. The situation could have easily been solved, and everyone knew it, including the kid that was playing the music. He could have just compromised and turned the volume down enough so that we couldn’t hear it. But that wasn’t how the situation unfolded – they all chose fighting over compromising.

…Luckily the fight remained verbal, and the two guys left after a few minutes of trying to look intimidating and shouting obscenities for a situation they knew little about. Holly was still pretty angry about what happened. I was surprised that loud-music-boy actually got other people to fight his battles for him instead of taking care of the situation himself, but I was even more surprised that everyone was so quick to start a fight. And let’s face it – this wasn’t the first one to take place at Drexel since I started living here; I have heard of several other conflicts as well. Many of them were, like the one I witnessed, over something stupid. There could be many causes for these displays of violence on campus. One could say that kids are playing violent video games or watching “Fight Club” one too many times. The violence may even stem from the Black Sabbath or Motley Crue music that the kid was always blasting from his stereo. But I think that a lot of kids are looking for a kind of escape; they are perfectly capable of choosing to play it safe, but they don’t want to. They are trying, in a reckless way, to shake things up – to break free of the monotony of their daily lives …I just hope we don’t see any fight clubs springing up at Drexel.

I’m sure you are assuming that by outrageousness I mean crazed shoppers tearing apart clothing racks or a verbal turned deathly physical fight over a pair of cashmere gloves in the middle of Bloomingdale’s. Sadly no, the outrageousness I witnessed this year had absolutely nothing to do with holiday shopping believe it or not. As I was walking out of Nordstrom, my eyes were immediately directed to a pair of teenagers loitering around Auntie Anne’s pretzel stand. There were only two of them, however their presence at that time was as if there was an entire assembly of people. The first person I noticed from the odd couple was a tiny girl, with flaming hot pink hair and outlandishly huge holes in her ears (I later learned that they were called ear plugs and the process by which they acquired these Tanzanian inspired holes was quite gruesome). She wore a black miniskirt with pink and black striped socks well above her knees, a pair of tattered sneakers, which looked as if they would part with their soles at any moment, along with a little black belly shirt, reading “DIE” in large white letters across the front. To top off the meticulously planned outfit, she had large utility chains hanging from both her waist and neck. I was afraid the petite girl would collapse at any moment from the weight of her industrial gear. As if her get-up wasn’t wild enough, there was still her companion who stood out even more ludicrously, believe it or not. In light of the wonderful holiday season, he was dressed, as what I am presuming, a human Christmas tree. His fluorescent green colored hair was molded into a perfect cone on the top of his head with pieces of hair fraying out from the sides. Hanging from his ears were large gold and silver ornaments- real ornaments that one who expect to see dangling off their blue spruce, not the ears of a frail teenaged boy. To put the icing on the cake, he wore a handful of garlands around his neck and all along his legs. I was freaked out by the sight, yet intrigued and mildly curious at the same time. Did their parents see them leave the house like this? Did they even have parents for that matter? As I saw other shoppers staring at the duo, I began to feel embarrassment for them. Surprisingly, they noticed the attention they were receiving and paid absolutely no mind to it. I am sure that they were accustomed to the mocking glares of others upon themselves as this was most likely their normal attire everyday. I followed them for some time as I was heading to my next store and couldn’t help keep my eyes glued to them. I noticed the intricate detailing that had gone in to their attire, and couldn’t even begin to fathom the imagination behind these garments.  

Unknowingly, I couldn’t help but overhear bits and pieces of their conversation. They were speaking enthusiastically about a concert they were going to that night. They were going to see Fallout Boy, which I was surprised to recognize based on the likes of these two people. Fallout Boy was a band that I listened to occasionally but I would never go to one of their concerts. I did enjoy some of their music and knew a few songs that I had heard on the radio. As they turned the corner, I began to wonder what possessed them to dress and appear the way they did. They weren’t the first extreme and unusual group of people I’d seen as it was a pretty widespread sense of style these days. They were classified as emo, punk and even Goth. I never paid much mind to them and none of my friends dressed like them, however they were surely a prominent part of today’s teenage society.  

Most of these types of people who I have encountered are heavily interested in emo and punk music, which is slowly transforming into the rock-and-roll music of our day. There have been numerous articles arguing that emo music is transforming into what people would consider rock music and how it is quickly taking over the interest of millions of young people from the current generation. I can’t help but think what my dad, being a die-hard Bon Jovi and Guns & Roses fan would think of this, and if he would even regard this genre of music as rock. Times have changed drastically and as music is continuously evolving, entire genres of music are changing as well. What once was rock music has now moved into a new form. When I hear emo and punk kids say their favorite type of music is rock, I often think twice- rock music as in The Motley Crue, or rock music as in Boys Like Girls (a band similar to Fallout Boy to those unknowing of today’s top “rock” bands)? With the various types of music present in our culture, there will never be a consistent form and each and every type will be modified and warped into whatever fits into today’s society. After seeing the outlandish pair walking through the mall, I felt slightly disdained by the shift from what is now considered classic rock to today’s leading rock. As I am sure, you will strongly agree with me when I say emo is not rock music! 

Though music can and never will be limited, our once favorite genres of music will tragically continue to be deformed and torn apart. Now, I’m no advocate for the rescue of true rock and roll but I think you will all see eye to eye with me when I say that rock music is not what it once was and it is up to the fans to keep this genre alive and kicking. As I wrapped my Christmas shopping, my thoughts about rock music began to diminish and I quickly forgot about the strange pair as I entered the parking lot, only to see another group of freakish teens strolling through the lot. Leaving the mall with bags of clothes and shoes, I also left with a fear of what my children would be like one day.

“I think he’s wasted!” my roommate whispered. I had never encountered a drunk person before, so she had to point out the details that gave him away: “Did you see him stumbling just then?” she giggled; “He’s eating, like, two different kinds of chips at the same time!” I saw that he did have a pretty large grocery bag filled with the chips and who-knows-what-else. Then his drunkenness became more noticeable (or I just started picking up on it). “Were you drinking?” my roommate asked Jeff. “Yea, I had a few beers,” he laughed. The fact that my first time around a drunk person happened in college may come as a shock to a lot of people; but not all fresh-out-of-high school girls think that a good time consists of getting drunk, smoking weed, and throwing themselves at David Lee Roth. And this is coming from a girl that hasn’t even been to a “real party” before. So you can imagine that I was a little nervous around this guy. I suddenly began remembering what I was taught by my parents and the D.A.R.E. program way-back-when – that their behavior is unpredictable; I wasn’t sure what Jeff would do next. At one point he stopped and crouched down with his head towards the ground, and my roommate and I were sure that he was going to puke; luckily he didn’t! As we were coming up on the res-halls, the situation only got funnier: “I need to get to North!” he exclaimed. “Yea we’re on the way,” my roommate responded. “No, I need to get to North,” he said for the second time. “We’re going!” my roommate and I laughed. She asked him if he had his key; “Yea” – he pulled out a five-dollar bill from his pocket – “Do I need to pay to get in?” “You’re completely gone!” my roommate exclaimed. We were now near the entrance to North Hall; “Come on, you need your I.D.” my roommate said. “Alright, get it,” said Jeff as he turned around. So, laughing, she took out his wallet from his pocket and got his I.D out. “Is your roommate there?” she asked. “You’re my roommate,” he said. “No, I’m not!” He tugged on her sleeve and said, “Yea, you are. Come on. Come on, pal.” As we were both giggling, she said, “No! Go upstairs. I have to take Liz home.” “Why? She’s horrible,” he said! My roommate and I were totally hysterical!

While most would think of such an encounter as normal, especially if they’re used to seeing it at parties and whatnot, or consider it “dangerous” to stay around an intoxicated person, I found it exciting. I’m not used to being around this kind of behavior, and it was a refreshing departure from the usual interactions.

So we headed across the street to Race, while we continued to laugh and reminisce about what happened. Seeing more drunk kids in the elevator, we couldn’t help laughing at the fact that they were everywhere. We got to our floor, both tired and ready to go to sleep; but just as we walked in our dorm, past our suitemates’ room, we heard whispering behind their door… we stopped and listened. “I think they just got back,” I thought I heard. Then they opened their door and we were bombarded with questions from our strait-laced and meddling suitemates… “Where were you?” they asked us with stern looks on their faces, “Do you know what time it is?”; even, “Were you with boys?” ‘Ooh, looks like we’re in trouble, now,’ I thought to myself. It was only around two in the morning; I was actually surprised they waited up for us this late since they’re usually asleep by eleven. I thought it was funny how they were trying to be intimidating, them wearing their cutesy pajamas and all. They proceeded to tell us that we should’ve been back sooner, and that they had to stay up until we got home; they didn’t have to do anything- they could have gone to bed whenever they wanted to. “Where were you?” they asked us again. I was fed up with this inquisition; I got enough of this kind of thing from my parents during high school, and I definitely didn’t need it from these girls that are my age; we’re in college now. So, getting some inspiration from Jeff, I decided to act drunk and mess with their heads… “We were at this crazy party tonight.” “Yea, on 38th and Baring,” my roommate caught on, “Oh my God, you should have seen how much Liz drank!” “Shut up, it was only five or six beer,” I playfully shot back. My roommate and I started laughing hysterically to be convincing. “Don’t worry about me, I do this all the time; I’m used to it” I said to my suitemates, who were just silent and gaping at me like I was insane. Then they exchanged looks and went into their room, nearly slamming the door behind them. “Well, I’m beat, I think I’m gonna go to bed now. See you guys bright and early in the morning!” I shouted at their door. My roommate and I went into our own room, shut the door, and started laughing at the effects of my scheme and how crazy our suitemates are. This had turned out to be a funny night, one that I’ll never forget as part of my college experience. Now I’m curious to see what other fun (and weird) events will cross my path.

The frat house was jam-packed and smelled of sweaty college kids who had undoubtedly been rubbing up on one another all night- it was a complete animal house. Jell-O shots were being passed around by a cute little girl dressed as a referee, continuously being pulled and tugged at by intoxicated guys, though for some reason, I sensed that she enjoyed the teasing and attention she was receiving. In another corner, legs were flailing in the air, as guys airlifted people chugging cheap beer at one of the three keg stands. People crowded around the scene and encouraged the chuggers to keep going for 10 seconds, 20 seconds, 30 seconds, and even as long as the night’s record, a whopping 57 seconds! He was dressed as a giant gorilla and I think I was the only one who didn’t found it absolutely ridiculous that there was a primate chugging beer midair. It was quite the feat and girls swooned at him left and right, while admiring boys screamed, “LONG LIVE KING KONG!” for the bulk of the night.

I walked from room to room only to see the same image repeated with different characters. I felt like I was in one of those teenage movies that were popular back in the 90’s- the puking, the relentless chattering, superficial courting, etc. Moving my way through the grungy halls of the house, I remember coming across a closed door, which my friend and I found to be quite odd since people were constantly walking in and out of every room. We looked at one another with devious smiles and decided to go in. Almost instantaneously after opening the door, a cloud of fog emerged from the room. “Close the door! Close the door you shitheads!” We quickly shut the door behind us, our eyes unable to focus in on what was going on because of the gray murkiness engulfing the air. It smelled enticing, yet sickening at the same time. My friend quickly tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear, “They’re smoking weeeeeeed!” I looked around and noticed people inhaling fumes from within a large glass figurine filled with water in the middle of the room. My heart began to pound, as this was the first time I had ever encountered drugs of any sort. I hurried my friend into exiting the room but she was giddy with excitement and refused to leave. I watched her head over to a guy near a window smoking from something that looked like a twig, and she slowly leaned in taking a deep puff. Next thing I knew she was coughing and gasping for air. I rushed over to her, grabbing her arm, and ran out of the room.

We headed back downstairs, only to return to a giant banana beating the living hell out of a frumpy looking girl (who was actually a guy with breasts made of oranges and a flowing mane of rich, chestnut-brown synthetic hair). I wondered why no one bothered stopping the fight but after watching for several seconds, I began to understand the spectacle and found it to be one of the single most amusing things I had ever observed. Banana boy was clearly struggling as he repetitively punched the girl-boy; his banana peels falling in his face and often getting tangled up between his arms and legs. Girl-boy, on the other hand, was trying hard not to rip the satin dress presumably borrowed from his girlfriend who was crying hysterically on the sideline as the scene went on. Confusing? Just imagine actually being there and witnessing the whole episode. Eventually, the fight simmered down and the banana lingered off with the rest of his Fruit-of-the-Loom gang, huffing and puffing all along the way in his drunken rage.

As the night was nearing its end, the house was practically in shambles. Puddles of beer lined the floors, furniture was overturned, and the kegs had mysteriously disappeared resulting in infuriated and bellowing Phi Psi brothers. It was the perfect night (for some) turned completely awry. Just as people began filing out of the house, red and blue lights flashed through the ripped curtains. BUSTED. People frantically tried to escape the house, however the drunkenness of nearly every attendee resulted in only more chaos. Gripping onto my dazed friend, I luckily found a back exit and rushed her across the street. We sat down on the curb and watched the show, munching on candy corn I had managed to smuggle before it became infested with jungle-juice. Three more cop cars had arrived by this time as they cornered the house making it almost impossible for people to get through towards safety. The cops began asking for the owners of the house and one by one they slowly emerged. I couldn’t even imagine the loads of trouble they were about to get into. The cops however seemed relatively at ease, but I soon realized that this was probably just the fourth or fifth bust of the night. Gradually people were allowed to leave, but not without fines for underage drinking and disorderly conduct. A pack of girls who I’m assuming were dressed as the Spice Girls clung to one another, only to collapse to the ground within seconds. We laughed at the sight, only to be followed in each of the Spice Girls giggling harmoniously at their own mishap.

The raid quickly got boring and my friend and I caught a ride back to the more orderly and calm grounds of Drexel University. I found out the next day that the Phi Psi boys had more than a thousand dollars in fines and even had to attend Alcoholic Awareness meetings for the next two months. It was quite the night, but in the end, I wondered if it all was even worth it. Apparently for the Phi Psi brothers, it was. Recently announced, they’ll be having another party November 15, Pre-Thanksgiving Extravaganza! See ya there!