I’m Greek. There’s no hiding it. Despite my ability to pass the brown paper bag test with flying colors and my apparent high level of intellect, I’m not part of the organization that you probably think and that people regularly assume. Honestly, I don’t even like eating bananas. And if I should by chance be eating one, it’s either blended up into a smoothie or eaten in segments. Anything less would be parfait, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Though I am a clean fellow, I’m not too fond of grabbing girls around the arm with oversized peppermint sticks or starting conversations with “Yo baby Yo”. I look good, but I’m not obsessed with good looks. I really don’t enjoy biting or licking people, and I’m far from nasty even though my mind sometimes hangs out in the gutter…okay, so my mind is always in the gutter. I do shower though. Since I’m from New York, it’s kinda hard for me to be country. I’m not constitutionally required to marry a soror, and I think doves are just elitist pigeons. Lastly, why would I promote a drink called centaur piss?
So what am I? I’m not telling you. Though with enough research and personal knowledge, you can figure it out pretty easily. All I know is that we frat men get it poppin’ flaws and all.
See, frat folks are better than the regular guys out there. I mean who wouldn’t want a guy who’s disappeared from public for an extended amount of time, lost a bit of weight, re-emerged with Greek letters and colors, put the weight back on, and added a bit of muscle. What woman doesn’t become intrigued when she sees a dude with some type of decoration hanging off his rear view mirror or some type of license plate decal that alerts her of his affiliation? And who is more of a rock star when visiting other schools or cities than a confident frat guy that’s coordinated enough to get his stroll on? Well, I guess rock/rap stars would be cooler, but that’s not my point here. Still wondering what I am? I’m not telling you.
It’s as if frat dudes not only become magnetized and attract swarms of women, but they also gain superhuman abilities that your Average Joe (that’s funny for so many reasons) could only dream of. Think about it. We can put women in a trance merely by showing a brand on a body part, rocking a shirt with colors and/or letters, and throwing up the sign. At parties, we can cause dudes to step out of the way merely by walking in their direction. We can compel people to talk about us by doing little more than existing. And do you see what happens when we throw up a sign? It’s either flood warnings or the fear of God in peoples’ eyes. It’s as if we’ve consumed a magical potion that doesn’t really wear off until the late 20’s. There are those in their 30s who try to use the potion, but their wives just won’t let em. Sucks.
On top of all this, we’re superheros that are expected to have more power to save the community than Barack. But like Batman, people turn against us even once we’ve done everything in our power to save Gotham City from various villains and uglies. Our gift is also a curse. Yet, we strive on. But yeah, who wouldn’t want a Greek dude or want to be a Greek dude? Who else can be so carefree and simultaneously have so much power and responsibility for saving the world. And that, ladies and gentleman, is why you love us or want to be us.
By the way, I’m an Individual.
Throwing Up Collegiate Commercialized Gang Signs Since 2003,