When I was applying to colleges during my senior year of high school, one institution I considered was Oberlin, in Ohio; it had a terrific college and an even better conservatory. I planned a visit there during the winter. In South Carolina, the weather is warm and mild almost year round, but even then I knew enough not to expect this to be true in other parts of the country. As I packed, therefore, I thought, It’ll be cold in Ohio in January. I’ll take a sweater.
So I spent three days in Ohio in January with a cotton sweater.
The admissions office had housed me with a hockey player named Topher, who graciously loaned me a down jacket so I wouldn’t die of frostbite but whose conversation was hopelessly tedious.
I could have stuck out the bitter cold and the unscintillating conversation, but he also had an unattractive ass.
I went elsewhere for college.
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