So I'm back at Duke and life on campus is in its normal state of affairs. Tenters are wearing 8.6 layers of clothing and telling anyone who will listen just how cold it is outside; there are enormous stray cats roaming the campus day and night; Bill Burig and Larry Moneta are still in stiff competition for the title of most hated man at Duke. But best has been getting to see the Duke characters once again. I'm referring to the six or so stereotypes of students that some of our peers willingly fulfill. It's these kids-the Duke players-that make campus a demented version of The Real World. The roles are not embodied by the majority of students, but those who take them on definitely add a little spice to everyday events. Some of these characters we love, others we love to hate. And so, for lack of an intellectually challenging topic this week, here's my little character summary. These are Duke's soap opera wannabes.
The 90210 girl. She is the quintessential social climber, the girl whose goal is to be invited to every "good" fraternity formal and date function. You know her from your freshman dorm or your writing class and she makes a point to yell out your name on campus only when she wants the people around you to know she's there. Desperate to be loved by all, she'll spend the night dancing with friends, then trash them all in the bathroom at George's just because it's what the other people are doing. A "real winner," as my grandmother would say, the 90210 girl doesn't smile in pictures-oh no-she pouts her lips and blows kisses because apparently she is a sexpot. If only we all could live in the delusional world where the sun rises and sets for us at the Beverly Hills Country Club.
The Frat Guy. This is not my shout- out to all boys bearing Greek letters. It refers to the one guy in every fraternity who lives and dies for it. He has to have the best costume at each mixer; he's on a first name basis with the staff at Thrift World. He's the nice guy who works the social circuit and is always willing to get something started on a lull evening. He's somewhat of a Peter Pan, but we all know what the future holds for the frat guy. He's going to be the father who embarrasses his kids. He'll dress as the mascot at little league games, he'll scream the loudest, cheesiest cheers from the stands. But just like we do, those kids will have no choice, but to love him.
The Face Jock. There are a handful of guys in each year who play the heartthrob. He's just got that look and decent game to match. This guy never has to worry about meeting people because freshman girls flock to him like crackheads to a dealer. Only problem with the face jock: he's all face. If you actually spend more than five minutes with the guy, you start to question his ability to spell or even speak full sentences. And then there are his embarrassing habits-like wetting the bed while intoxicated-that just take away from his oh-so-gorgeous features. So, the grand lesson with this one: Sometimes the best part of the book is its cover.
Drunk Hos with the 4.0. I honestly do not know how these women do it. They go out every night, they are always fall down drunk, and yet they manage to be Phi Beta Kappa with a bio/chem/physics triple major. God bless this type of girl because she lives like a rockstar. On Wednesday night she's slurring her words and hitting on the toothless bouncers at Shooters; but come Thursday morning she is taking notes like Jessie Spano. The genius alcoholic spends her life at the edge and sometimes she crashes, but it's only temporary. Soon enough she'll be back, doing all sorts of nastiness on the dance floor with her guy o' the night.
The Pseudo Intellectual. He is the kid who always has something to say in lecture. However, his eagerness in the classroom is not the problem; the issue is the fact that what he offers has nothing to do with the course. This is the kid who is super knowledgeable about one and only one topic and attempts to make it relevant to all classes. Hard as he tries to come off smart, the pseudo intellectual doesn't realize that Alexander Hamilton's financial genius isn't relevant to cell bio. He doesn't quite get that no one cares about mollusks in PPS 55. It will not impress the professor and it sure as hell won't get you the ladies.
The Freshman Dorm Hermit. Each dorm on East Campus had at least one kid who did not believe in human interaction. She would not make eye contact or speak to fellow dormmates. The only sightings of this recluse was when he would be leaving for class, meals or trips to the restroom. The odd behavior of these students sparked rumors of parents sold on the Russian black market for high performance calculators. These are no nonsense, academic obsessed students. And make no mistakes-if your dorm's version of Boo Radley should need the last shower she would elbow you out of the way with a grunt and a look that can only be interpreted as "you best be steppin'."
So there they are, the best ensemble cast this school has to offer. We may laugh and joke about the stereotypes, but in the end we possess a little bit of each of them in us. We're all going through the motions and trying to get the most out of these four years. My experiences would not have been the same without these stereotypes; Duke wouldn't be Duke without these stereotypes. And for that, you appreciate the students for who they are and realize they help to make this point in our lives complete.
Jennifer Wlach is a Trinity junior. Her column appears every other Friday.
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