College runs on five words put together to form the most indifferent, unfriendly social-networking tool, rivaled only by sex with bosses for career gain: “What are you doing tonight?”
This simple, impersonal phrase is generally texted, IMed or stated without even a conversation starter like, “Hey.”
When someone asks you what your plans are for the night, it’s almost the same as when they ask about your Christmas break.
Plain and simple, they do not care. However, they are obligated by the constraints of being a Fairfield student, with all of the half smiles and faux laughs at unfunny jokes that come with it.
The only purpose others have in propositioning you is to better their own situation. The question is beneficial to the person asking it because they’re looking for a ticket to the dance. And those five meaningless words just might get them in through the back door.
Everyone knows who their friends are, and then everyone knows those people whom they actually do not know at all. Sure, you remember their name when you’re pitched on a Saturday night and you need to tell them to change that overplayed Fairfield fave. You say hello at parties or on the high school-like walks to class that make you realize just how small Fairfield actually is.
These are the same people who you talk to for a couple minutes, exchanging pleasantries to be forgotten quicker than the overall length of the conversation. It’s not that they are bad people, but at Fairfield, they are merely faces in the crowd. You’re nice to them because they’re nice to you, and that is as far as the relationship goes.
And neither of you would have it any other way. It is kind of like low maintenance friendships, where no real feeling or emotion is exchanged. They’re around for some of the good times and then they’re not. When college is over, they’ll fall into the whirlpool of melded college memories.
My observation is not solely isolated to Fairfield. You are surrounded by acquaintances all throughout your life, people whom you know in passing, good for a shake of the hand and a complementary question about the family.
At Fairfield, however, those who live on campus in close quarters such as the quad or the townhouses understand just how overlapping this place can be. Even if you live at the beach, there are plenty of exchanges facilitated more out of being recognized than actually caring.
My complaint is not in being friendly or socializing, but rather in the superficial lives that we all lead. While it is impossible to be completely real, that is not my focus. What is more important, however, is the realization that most of the memories we create at Fairfield are merely recycled Post-its on indiscriminate, drunk nights.
So, is that to say that everyone has to be everyone else’s friend? No, nor should they rise up and tell off every kid they consider to be even the most mild of acquaintances.
Take a look at those around you the next time you’re at a party; for all the college banter and loud exclamations of intoxicated freedom in the air, it’s nothing more than useless fodder that will inevitably be forgotten tomorrow.
And that is the beauty of it. We live a life at Fairfield of fleeting relations, whether sexual or non-sexual, and we take from them what we will. They fall into our grossly short-term memory with such repetitiveness that we cannot even distinguish that one, “What are you doing tonight?” from any other.
So, the next time someone asks you what you’re doing for the night, just say, “I’ll see you later.”
Chances are, you probably will even if you don’t really want to.
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