All around me the room was filled with girls in salmon or brown shirts. We were all paired with a sorority sister, maybe even two.
“Well, I mostly spent the summer relaxing,” I told her.
She looked a little disappointed. She probably wanted to hear about how I spent the summer with Habitat for Humanity or at a soup kitchen. Yet, all I had was that I watched Year One and Transformers 2 with my friends.
I hurried to tell her that the summer before I had gone to England with my mom, and about going to Presidential Classroom. But, as at the previous houses, I felt like everything I told them sounded dull in comparison to the student council presidents and socialites around me.
The girl passed me onto someone else and I again I had to tell another person about myself. The first girl was probably glad to get rid of me. Our conversation had not been all that thrilling. The new girl smiled at me with her white teeth, perfectly straightened hair, and immaculate makeup.
Were none of the sorority girls flawed?
Outside the house, people in cars drove by to watch us parade from house to house as if we were a circus. Thankfully, none of the fraternity guys threw food at us as we walked by or held up score card numbers like I had heard some did.
However, a group of guys had put out lawn chairs and sat in them outside their homes, watching us go from house to house. They called out to girls and drank beer. Some girls walked around them, going clear to the opposite sidewalk to do so. One girl walked past them, her shoulders back and her head held high. I am not sure if she was more brave or attention-seeking.
I took comfort in texting my then-boyfriend and telling him about the day’s events. However, I did not appreciate his comment about a drunk Katie not being a good thing. His words made me think a little on how maybe not every sorority girl planned to drink her weight in alcohol. That some girls got grouped with the stereotype and were guilty by association.
The day took an interesting twist when we made it to North Greek Row. A small tent had been placed outside the grand, white stone house and our group stood on the grass, tired and hot. My makeup no longer mattered and I had my hair pulled back into a ponytail. I wished that I had worn shorts rather than the jean skirt so I could sit on the ground comfortably. My feet hurt in my flip-flops.
Article comments