I recently started working a part time job in one of the division offices at a Community College. Having worked at a Community College before I know that there are a "wide" variety of students (old, young, sane insane, rich, poor, you name it!) enrolled at any given time. Below, please find my "open letter" to the drunk student who sat next to me outside on the concrete bench as I ate my lunch of coffee and mini cinnamon rolls:
Dear Drunken Middle-Aged Community College Student:
I can't help buy overhear your phone conversation with your significant other (who is most likely manning the Winnebago/Meth Lab that you live in). He sounds like a real treat - I know this because you've slurred "I lurvvvve you" about 500 times so far.
Just a bit of advice for you: I was once a college student who liked to party too. But then again I was in my late teens (you look like you are pushing a hard 43) and no mater how many Everclear and Kool Aid shooters I put back on any given night, I was always sure to sober up before class the next day. Not once, during my six years at a 4-year university did I start pounding the booze before noon, nor did I ever show up for class intoxicated (an amazing feat for me at that time). You on the other hand, are clearly gearing up for your next class (as you've mentioned many times over the phone that you'll be home "after class"). Which brings me to another point, oh classy, drunken student with dragon tattoo on your upper arm: Just exactly how are you going to get home? Is the mobile Meth Lab going to swing by and pick you up? Will you be charming the other transit riders with your tequila breath and funny anecdotes on the city bus (one can only hope). Or are you planning on hopping into your 1984 Subaru GL rusty station wagon and hitting the highways during rush hour?
Sure, I might be tempted to put back a few cocktails if I was in my mid forties and working my way towards a Medical Assistant Certificate (not that there's anything wrong with that!) but I try to save my cocktail hour for my nightly marathon of crappy reality TV watching).
Maybe you just regret all those animals-of-the-jungle tattoos, and drinking is the only way to mask your regret? Whatever the reason, I am sorry for you. Party on, Drunken, Middle-Aged, Community College Student.
The Lady eating mini cinnamon rolls next to you at lunch