Breaking Up With the Jug
That’s it, enough; I’m breaking up with the Jug!
No one I tell seems to take me seriously. My friends are taking bets on how long before I go crawling (or rather stumbling) back to it. And in the back of my mind, I know it won’t be long before I do return, but I also can say that it will never be the same.
Much of my recent disillusionment with the Jug comes from my visit there last Friday night. It was my worst experience out at Colgate in over two years of being a student here. The evening started badly with the enormous line waiting to enter the notorious establishment. First of all, I arrived early — before 12:15 a.m. There shouldn’t have even been a line. I haven’t gone to the Jug before midnight since I was an eighteen year old trying to sneak in on a Saturday night!
Had it just been a line, I wouldn’t have been as upset. Only this line came with pushing, shoving and all but trampling our fellow classmates. Not exactly the kind of “rowdy raiders” the administration is advocating! And seriously, what is the hurry? This is the Jug, not the last game ever at Yankee Stadium. If you don’t get in you’re really not missing anything. Every night at the Jug is the same as every other night at the Jug, from the persons attending to the playlist.
Finally getting inside offered no relief. The long line from outside had transformed into a suffocating crowd inside, which rendered everyone almost immobile. Of course I was bathed in Corona every time someone tried to navigate the dance floor while holding their overpriced beer above their head. That’s to be expected. What I didn’t expect was to find myself also cloaked in someone else’s vomit. Can we maintain even the most rudimentary level of etiquette please? It is not ok to throw up all over people you don’t know in a public place. Gross! So while the rest of Colgate students were carrying on with their entertainment, or getting some much needed sleep, I spent the witching hour of 3 to 4 a.m. doing laundry and compulsively showering.
After hearing my ordeal people sympathize, saying “No wonder you are taking time off from the Jug.” But that’s not entirely it. My bad experience this past weekend was merely “the straw that broke the camel’s back.”
In the times I’ve gone to the Jug this year, I’ve come to the conclusion that it is no place for juniors. Junior year is an odd time for students here. Half of the class is away from Colgate studying abroad, and of the half remaining at Colgate, many are turning 21. Add this to the fact that junior year students move down the hill into better housing (apartments and townhouses), providing the opportunity to just chill out in an apartment for an evening, rather than hit town. What you’ll find is that there are not that many juniors at the Jug. Now when I look around at the sea of buzzed faces grinding all over the place, I don’t recognize them. Everyone is younger and everyone is a stranger. Part of the fun of going to the Jug was seeing people you knew; whether it was your roommates and best friends or the kids you sit next to in lecture, whose names you don’t know. Going to the Jug allowed you to be out with many of your classmates at once.
Now that it isn’t like that for me, the Jug has lost some of its appeal. Dancing around, singing and embarrassing yourself with people you don’t know at all is significantly less enticing. It’s also weird to be older than everyone. Granted, the age difference between me and a sophomore is negligible, but once freshmen nights start there will be some people nearly three years younger than me and I don’t want to be thought of as a cougar! Ha!
In my first year here, Monday and Thursday freshmen nights were not to be missed. Last year, as a sophomore, I loved the Jug. I went a lot, as did a majority of my fellow classmates. But the Jug really is best for underclassmen. Being a junior I’m more interested in turning 21. Not just so I can get my Jug VIP card, (though at least it will eliminate that odious line), but also so I can move on to the other venues in town and find familiar faces again.