Either a somewhat well-known frat rapper or a rising YouTube star, the quasi-celebrity is constantly padded with the ego boost of being the person who those freshman girls on the other side of the room are excitedly whispering about. Those who know him/live with him realize that while he may be all that, he’s really just a relatively talented dude whose managed to figure out a way to be good at stuff that other people find enjoyable.
In 5 Years They’ll Be: A real celebrity, and a select number of friends/acquaintances who think they’re more intelligent than said person will be simultaneously amused, baffled, and slightly jealous.
The Future Busy-Businesswoman
Her ever-polished resume and near-perfect GPA has no time for relaxation–yea you’ll see her at parties, but she’s really only there to look down on the moronic buffoons who are drinking their way into an actual college experience. To your chagrin, this humorless version of Liz Lemon is probably extremely attractive, particularly when wearing her usual power suit uniform.
In 5 Years They’ll Be: Five years closer to being 35, single with no prospects, and on the verge of having a nervous breakdown–which will manage to be prevented by unexpectedly meeting some down to earth (but decently successful) guy who will call her out on her issues, force her to re-evaluate her entire life philsophy, and spur her to take a job considered “less prestigious,” all in the pursuit of a “healthily balanced outlook” that includes getting married and having kids before it’s too late.
Mr. “It’s Not A Major, It’s a Lifestyle”
Finance is the biggest culprit here, particularly once that second-semester junior year internship craze hits. Always on the hustle, these types are amongst the biggest fans of going out to dinner with larger groups of people, and talking predominantly about things that only pertain to those who have decided to sacrifice their well-being and general happiness for spirited talks of mergers, bank gossip, and some interesting thing they saw on Dealbreaker.
Embracing the lifestyle has certainly given these dudes purpose though, and it’s not like you could really knock the fact that their signing bonuses alone are nearly half of everyone else’s salaries.
In 5 Years They’ll Be: Still unsure if they completely threw their life away/wondering when exactly those hot girls they’d otherwise be unable to get come into play
The Hooded Sweatshirt Douchebag
While everyone else is doing things like being enthusiastic about the college experience and showing support for sports teams, this joker is too absorbed in his completely genius observations about college life in general to have any time for actual experiences. So deep and profound, you may see him taking long walks at 4am complete with blasting headphones (Third Eye Blind), or taking out his frustration with his secretly impressive athletic ability, which for some reason he chooses not to utilize that often. May have an irrational obsession with chain restaurants (specifically Red Lobster), which is only due to the fact that this person believes that there is no greater calling in life than being completely misunderstood.
In 5 Years They’ll Be: A floundering comedian.
The Overexcited Narrator
Half of the reason the hooded sweatshirt douchebag turned out the way he is can be directly attributed to this person, who first makes their scarring mark the moment Freshman arrive for campus orientation.
Having heard that college is supposed to be the time of your life, this is the person who thinks that sitting in a circle and having an impromptu, alcohol-free dance party with 7 people you met five minutes ago is just that. The over-enthusiasm is really just toxic.
In 5 Years They’ll Be: Leading team-building exercises for a mid-level consulting company, of which the participants will spend the whole time wondering why they’re being treated like they’re in Kindergarten.
The Failed Sorostitute
You have to feel bad for this person. Falling in between a number of collegiate girl stereotypes (too fun for the busy-business woman, too cool for the overexcited narrator, isn’t on a sports team, and isn’t superficial/attractive enough to be a hardcore sratter), she is really just a woman without an island. But like everyone else, she falls victim to the human need to be validated by other groups of people, even if she doesn’t totally agree with what they stand for.
Wanting to go up a rung rather than down, she’ll end up joining a sorority (if the school doesn’t have greek life, this will instead be a group of people who call themselves some forced nickname, and are effectively the same exact thing) But because she doesn’t start 42% of her sentences with OMG, she inevitably becomes somewhat ostracized. And because she’s somewhat ostracized, she’ll find herself pressing a lot harder than she’d wish.
In 5 Years They’ll Be: A psychologist.
Disgraced Larry David
People love Larry David because he’s mastered the ability to call out the absurdities of social norms in a way that is not only “soooo true,” but is also liberatingly funny. But because these are the sorts of things that everyone experiences, an entire generation of budding comedic minds think that because they were once at a dinner party they didn’t want to be at, they TOO could become the next Larry David.
Problem is, to gain widespread notoriety for having humorous ideas generally takes time — you read stories of comedians, and half of them take at least a decade to actually be funny. #TrophyGeneration wants that shit now though, so we tend to press. And the result is very annoying.
In 5 Years They’ll Be: Deciding whether or not they should take the promotion at the bar/restaurant, thus giving up dreams of becoming an actor and opting to live a life rooted in bitter regret.
That heinous attempt at a Tucker Max joke aside, Tucker Min is what people would think of the now-famous misogynistic crusader if he was A.) not actually a pretty intelligent guy, and B.) one of those douchey parody Twitter accounts whose brilliance was tragically misunderstood by all 31 of his Twitter followers. Fluent in grunt, Tucker suffers from Frat Bro tourettes–a tragic disease in which he uncontrollably blurts out things like “chicks” and “blacked the FUCK out” in the middle of completely unrelated sentences. He could be kind of cool if he didn’t take himself so seriously, but alas, the pressure that comes with being a hookup legend gets to him in the worst of ways.
In 5 Years They’ll Be: Some weird frat life reformer who uses his story as a cautionary tale, similar to how drug addicts become motivational speakers.
A marketing major, the #Grind’s enormous social media presence will notify you that when it comes to ambiguous startup projects that have little clout beyond the University Community, this is your guy. A friend of the fratstars and GDI’s alike, this future buzzword and douchey salesperson superstar would love nothing more to “hook you up” — though his possibly superficial trust in everything and everyone (as well as his affinity for hashtags) is a little bit unnerving.
In 5 Years They’ll Be: Developing a passive-aggressive relationship with bouncers at clubs in NYC’s meatpacking district.