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I got a glimpse of Josh’s future. He lives in a suburb. He is married. He loves his wife but says terribly rude things about her. She doesn’t mind for whatever reason. Josh of the future has a potbelly, maybe. Maybe he coaches his kid’s soccer team. Maybe he teaches him swear words, and their mutual rudeness becomes a language of affection. Maybe.
Drinking at college is like an Olympic sport married with 1920s bootleg culture. There are relays, some illicit drugs, smuggling, you name it. Truth be told, I can barely remember what drinking in college was like – which means I was probably really good at it. Here’s what my memory has managed to preserve.
On Easter weekend of your freshman year at Dartmouth, you and two friends, Rick and John, decide to rent a car and drive to New Haven, CT, where you once attended a summer program for high school students. The Ford Escort, fittingly obtained at an agency called Rent-a-Wreck, the only place that will rent to a nineteen-year-old, is half your age.