Flip Your Collars Down And Get Ready For The “I Hate Colgate Club”

This week, one of my roommates, Jen Reynolds, decided to let off some (slightly ironic) steam. Since I wish I had written something like this and she’s put it much better than I would have, here for your reading pleasure is my roommate’s first commentary. We convened and decided to add the following disclaimer for the excessively P.C., humorless or generally uptight (none of whom are at Colgate, of course): this is supposed to be funny.

I’m forming a new club. Want to join? Be fair warned, this is not a club that is going to change your life or make a meaningful impact on some other unfortunate soul. That’s not my deal. I don’t do humanity and goodness. I excel in the negative. I revel in it; I wrap it around myself like a cape. I have a wand and I knight people who cross my path and say something acerbically bitter. God bless their hating souls. My club is going to be fantastic. Membership is not exclusive, except for that there is a rigorous personal interview and a list of accomplishments is welcomed, but not required. Upon approval and submission of the annual fee of $269, you receive your complementary button that proudly boasts the name of the club: “I Hate Colgate.” Black with white lettering, it’s a snazzy fashion accessory for this fall. This club welcomes all those with disdain in their hearts and bitterness in their souls, especially when directed at this fine institution we call Colgate University. Our manifesto is an opus that I have spent two years composing. Don’t criticize because dissenters get thrown into the snow banks. The list of grievances begins with the location of the campus. Apparently 13 men with 13 dollars and 13 prayers couldn’t take 13 minutes to put a little thought into where the bulk of the buildings should be. The hill, a majestic name, is an atrocity. Climbing up an endless flight of stairs only to have to hike up another hill is just the beginning. Where is the ski lift I demanded my first year? The construction is another aggravation to this whole issue of the hill. What used to take me 10 minutes now takes me 15-God knows I don’t have time for that what with all my other activities, like sitting. I’m not a believer in over-involvement. Been there, done that. I write for the newspaper. Not quite sure how I managed to loop myself into that one, but there you go. I like to express my disgust through my tacit disapproval of other student groups. I scoff at those who are excited for their next meeting, roll my eyes at the signs advertising events undoubtedly carefully planned, and sneer at those athletes who play hard and work hard. I’ve been told that Colgate has a gym and fitness center, but I have yet to see it. Another major complaint you are going to have to adhere to as a member of the “I Hate Colgate” club is the weather. My birthday is in early October and last year I got a special present, a fall flurry; one of my roommates, whose birthday is in early spring, received a similar chilly present. We congratulated ourselves on our good fortune. I went through several pairs of contacts my first year when my attempts to walk to class resulted in my contacts being blown out of my eyes by the gales of wind tunneling by Persson. Await the bill, Colgate. I have also been told that my bright red cheeks and fogged up glasses were a flattering look, but I suspect they were all lies. Most compliments are. The paramount criterion for admittance to the club is something akin to a dress code. I will accept no “Colgate boys” or “Colgate girls.” Stuff your North Face fleeces in your Vera Bradley totes and Patagonia messenger bags and throw them into the three feet of murky Taylor Lake water. Don’t worry about hurting the swans; they’ll be going back to their rental agency soon. Go crazy-cancel your charge account at Ralph Lauren. We don’t even talk about pearls or New Balance sneakers. I accept grunge and flannel. Base your style off the early nineties and you’ll be golden. The “I Hate Colgate” club is not all about the negative. We have goals, we have hopes – dare I say dreams. Down with the Broad Street Initiative! I live on Broad Street and I don’t feel at all compelled to forge the bonds of community. I am not sure who lives next door to me, but I think they are girls. I could be wrong. As for the Greek life system, I say have your mixers, wear your pastels, and do good for the community but stay away from me. Keep your kind to your kind. A message to the administration: let them keep their houses. Colgate couldn’t possibly be worse off without them and who needs greater community, really?If you feel that you can properly uphold these values then I welcome you with a broad smirk to the “I Hate Colgate” club. Again, the pins are something to behold.