What to Expect on Gone Greek Night

Sorostitutes:

Part 1: Singing.  You know your songs. YOUR CHAPTER HAS THE BEST DAMN SONGS IN THE ENTIRE QUAD. Even if the lyrics seem like they were written by Tommy Wiseau, sing them with pride. If you sound stupid, you’ll sound stupid in solidarity. And let’s face it, stupidity in numbers is almost never shameful.

Those songs are the closest to hazing NU sororities will ever come. So if you’re uncomfortable, go chill with a sister elsewhere. Seriously. Nobody’s going to judge you because you don’t want to sing songs about how whorish you are. And it’s likely nobody’s going to notice your absence because you’re new and no one knows to ask where you are yet. So if you’re weirded out by weird lines or choreography, pretend you need to leave temporarily to go get special hypoallergenic tampons from Elder. Or something.

If you're presented with roses arranged like this, you may want to avoid the fratstar responsible for it.

If you’re awkward about receiving roses (like me), don’t put them down on a chair and pretend like you don’t have any (like me), because boys will think you actually don’t have any and they will give you more and you will have an awkward bouquet at the end of the night, and you will realize very slowly that it’s not because they find you attractive but rather because they see you have none in your hand and are either taking pity or priming you for a later hookup, and only you will know this, and you can’t/don’t explain that to any of your new sisters giving you the stinkeye because they will not understand and also because you kinda want them to think you looked especially hot and deserved the roses (no seriously I don’t know anyone who that happened to). If you’re kind of person who brags about receiving roses…don’t. In fact, drop now, you’re clearly obnoxious.

Part 2: Dancing.  We’ll be saying this again on Dillo, but pace yourself if you’re drinking. Clearly the class of 2015 has issues with this (how many hospitalizations did you have fall quarter?) Don’t get super-trashed on the bus and be vomming on the dance floor the rest of the night, because you will probably get sent home, the Sober Sister sharing your cab will probably resent you, and the likeliness that you will hook up is literally nil. Also, treat your location with respect. You really don’t want to be That Guy.* Don’t make people hate you before you even finish pledging yet.

Gone Greek Night?

As I said earlier, you’re new and no one knows to check up on you yet. So find a buddy if you don’t want to hook up. That said, HAVE FUN. Remember those nights where you have to try to find someone who wants to hook up? Not tonight. Everyone’s single on GGN. Unless you’re not, in which case, don’t be a cheating bitch. Otherwise, go crazy, hon. If there was ever a night where you wanted to know how it feels to wake up in some random fratty’s dorm trying to remember whether the bra you were wearing matched your panties, and are they in the same location, and where that location may  be – go for it. You’ll be sharing stories later. Have a good one.

Or you could pull the Classy Ellie K move, which involves sleeping (no actually, just sleeping) in your awesome superchill super-cozy guy friend’s dingle, waking up sans hangover and going to the house because they have the best granola (which, unless you’re in my sorority, your house doesn’t have the best granola. Sorry).

So in short, don’t expect anything. Have a fun and safe time, represent your chapter- and most importantly, don’t get caught.

Pledges: Get ready to stumble! This is your chance to impress the ladies, sing your heart out and binge drink on a Friday afternoon. You’ll probably start your night pregaming with some brothers or just with your pledge class. Make sure to get absolutely crunk but not so bad that you can’t find the DG house. Once you’re done taking handle pulls in the daylight, you go sing to them fine sorority chicks. Usually, you’ll put their name in a song to make them all feel just so special and unique! Try “We found love in a __(sorority name)__-less place,” that should make them all love you.

NO SEX ON THE DANCE FLOOR, REGARDLESS OF THE LEVEL OF CONSENT

Throughout the night you’ll have roses to bestow onto all the bitchez you wish to make intercourse at. Try to give them out to your friends so that no one knows about your plan to make intercourse at the other ones. At some point in the night you’ll go to the house of the sorority you’re paired with for a nice meal. Eat dat shit. It’ll sober you up and allow you to remember the night (pro tip: Don’t shovel the food into your mouth as fast as you can and demand seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths, sixths and sixty-ninths. You’ll look like a pig).  Once the singing part is over, you can let loose and have some fun. Buses generally leave for the bar from the sorority quad near the house of the sorority you’re paired with between 7:30 and 8:30 p.m. Go to the bar. Take some awesome shooters with some awesome friends. Soak up each other’s awesomeness. Get kicked out of the bar. Hook up with some hawt girlz . BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DON’T HAVE SEX ON THE DANCEFLOOR. PEOPLE REMEMBER THAT SHIT. That’s all I have to say.

Frat bros: Okay, we remember freshman year, right? Don’t do that shit. Keep it in control, bro. Just take a few shots, dance your ass off and DON’T HAVE SEX ON THE DANCEFLOOR. WHY HAS NO ONE FORGOTTEN THAT SHIT.  Other than that, your night has a lot less pressure. You just dress up, pregame and head to the buses. There’s a pretty good chance you’ll pregame at Cozy or some other fine BYOB establishment in Evanston. This is a great way to cover up your alcohol dependency but be warned: everyone else had the same idea and crowds are more than likely.  One final note: GGN isn’t really about you. It’s a chance for the new pledge classes to scope each other out, feel uncomfortable and try not to vomit. So have fun and get wild, but you should probably avoid bursting in during the middle of a song for a solo. I’m sure you sound great singing “Someone Like Gamma Phi” but everyone will be weirded out.

Other rule: Drink every time Chewbacca and Han Solo "have a moment"

GDI’s: This is not the most fun weekend for a non-Greek but that doesn’t mean you can’t find ways to make it interesting. True, there are generally no open frat parties Friday night (and few on Saturday) but that hardly means you can’t get schwastey. Try a drinking game! There are plenty of fun one, like battleshots or Mean Girls. I would advise STRONGLY against the Star Wars Drinking Game, in which the only rule is that you have to chug a handle every time there’s a surprising paternity result. Literally everyone will puke and/or die. So please don’t do it.
If you don’t want to sit with two friends in your dark dorm room (Green Cup, ya dig?), see if you can find a hoppin’ apartment party. Or maybe scope out some other bars for us and report back on which one should be the new Monday night destination. If you’re doing this, aim for a bar within walking distance of everywhere on campus that serves free booze and doesn’t card. Stripper poles are a must.

*That Guy behaviors include: vomiting in unsavory places, being a Motherfucker, destroying shit, vomiting in unsavory places, singing Nickelback songs

Interviews: A Zombie

Turns out, zombies are real. And we have one in captivity.

Mr. Nibbles struggles with a brain addiction and chronic back pain

This is an interview with an actual zombie, who was born, raised, died, and raised in Haiti. On Sherman Avenue’s latest manatee-hunting excursion, we found a zombie, named him Mr. Nibbles, and took him home to be our new pet. This interview was conducted through the bars of his cage (in the bedroom of Sir Edward Twattingworth III), as we fed him centipede brains from Plex and Cheerios from Hinman.

Sherman Ave: Tell us, Mr. Nibbles, how did you become a zombie?

Nibbles: Well, it started out when I went to the Bokor to get some pot.

SA: What’s a Bokor?

Nibbles: Our resident witch doctor. You know how whenever American thugs want to cut a bitch, they cut the bitch? Haitians just go see the Bokor and he curses the bitch. He also deals things.

SA: So what was different when you went to buy from him this time?

Nibbles: Well, I told him that my last trip had been more painful than teaching wildcats to play sports. So he gave me something new to try. Said it came from pufferfish.

SA: What did the pufferfish stuff do?

Nibbles: It knocked me out. I apparently looked pretty dead.

SA: How long did this go on?

Nibbles: Long enough to be buried alive. Can I have some more Cheerios?

SA: Not until you’re done with the interview. What was being dead like?

Nibbles: I wasn’t dead, I was just unresponsive.* When I eventually came to, I felt worse than freshmen sorostitutes on a post-Keg Tuesday morning, and I had a mad case of the munchies. Basically, the Bokor had knocked me out and then given me a dose of datura, which is just your run-of-the-mill potentially toxic hallucinogen.

SA: Can you describe the effects of datura?

Nibbles: Well, it walks a foggy, fucked-up line somewhere between hallucinogen and near-death experience. I’d done it before I was zombified on it. You kinda mumble around tripping massive crusty balls. Side effects are extreme suggestibility, amnesia, diaphragm paralysis, and sometimes aggression. There are Youtube videos of state school Motherfuckers immortalizing each other’s bad decisions on datura. But essentially, you’ve just been roofied by the Bokor.

SA: So in a stereotypical zombie, the drooling, moaning, slurring, limping, and aggression is probably because of the datura.

Nibbles: Exactly. And because zombies are pretty complacent most of the time, they usually get put to work in the field. But I’m sure there are Bokors who get more creative with their zombie slaves.**

SA: Do you identify with the common stereotype of a zombie?

Nibbles: I mean, in some ways. I definitely lost a lot of brains due to asphyxiation while I was buried alive, as a lot of zombies do. I think that oftentimes that disappointment that you’ve just died a little on the inside manifests itself in the aggression caused by the datura. You just want your brains back in whatever way you can, and you end up trying to nom on anyone normal in the area.

A huge part of zombification is the mental adjustment. When you’ve been buried alive and you wake up feeling more fucked up than the lovechild of Tom Cruise and Charlie Sheen, a common question to ask is, “What’s wrong with me?” But the question never comes out right. You end up with something like, “Hn wclch trchk blm nnnnng?” And when the answer from your friends and family is “HOLY FLYING FUCK, I THOUGHT YOU DIED,” at some point you do start believing you’re a zombie. It’s like your crotchety black uncle who’s convinced he’s a Democrat because he’s a minority, despite his right-wing stance on every fucking issue on the platform. It’s like having anorexia and participating in the Stanford prison experiment. There’s this impossibly perfect standard of what a zombie should be, and you have zombies becoming someone else to try to fit into those roles.

SA: So what you’re saying is that you felt pressured by the cultural expectations of zombies.

Nibbles: Yeah. I started hanging around graveyards, I lumbered around slower than the frustrating Motherfucker in the dining hall who’s obliviously in your way when you’re hauling ass to the cookie bar line, I didn’t say anything but “NNNNNGGG” for a year or two. I mean, what kind of a word is “Ng”? The stereotyping and idealization of zombies in the media is a dangerous cultural phenomenon, and it goes unquestioned and unreported. Every time you watch a George Romero film, I beg you to please remember that not every zombie can tear the limbs off of a pair of dumbass lovers trying to make a kamikaze run for their lives. And not every zombie wants to.

SA: Are there any portrayals of zombies in movies that you’d like our readers to watch?

Nibbles: Yeah. There’s a Spanish foreign film*** called Rec, off of which the American piece of shit Quarantine was based. If you’re going to watch a zombie movie, Rec is significantly more heinous. Please honor Latin America with the concession that this movie might be the one thing we don’t do as well. Also, Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island. Hanna-Barbera gets enough zombie facts right to be legit.

SA: Thank you. Nibbles, I think this concludes our interview. We really appreciate your input on the subject. It’s been a heinous time.

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*Like the side door of Annenberg.
**Interactive question for readers: What would YOU do with a zombie slave?
***There are subtitles. Get over it, you’re reading things right now. But apparently they mistranslate the foul language, so whenever you hear the word “mierda” you’ll have to either get off your lazy ass and onto Spanishdictionary.com, or rely on whatever AP Spanish remains accessible behind the stacks of quotable South Park episodes in your brain. See? You knew being bilingual was good for something. You can power trip over your ability to point out inconsistencies in the translation of profanity.