My Frat Days Are Over: I Now Wander Allston Dishing Out Warnings and Riddles

By: Piper Hope

Now that I’ve reached my sophomore year of college, the thought of stepping foot in a frat makes me nauseous. Even the MIT frats, located in gorgeous brownstone mansions, make me, in my old age, stand in the corner shaking my head at the waste of a beautiful space. But that begs the question: What can I do now on a Friday night? What if the streets of Allston are still calling to me?

Last weekend I decided to take a nostalgic stroll down Pratt St. But suddenly, I had gotten a little chilly so I naturally put on my cape. As I pulled the hood over my head to block the wind, a young girl, just a wee freshman, came up to me. “What are you doing here wizard ass bitch?” she asked me. I peered out from under my hood as she wobbled in front of me and realized I had an opportunity. As a retired fratzo, I could share some of my wisdom with this girl. But I had to follow the example of my personal hero, Bjork, and deliver her a riddle.

“Momentary fun 

results in the latin root for one, 

touching of the mouths 

will later cause yours to frown”

I waved my hand in front of her face and scuttled away into a bush (ouch). She stood there pondering my words but then quickly caught up with her friends. Later that evening I watched as this young lady made out with the guy who offered her a cigarette outside. Drat! My warning had not worked, I must make them better.

My next chosen pupil was a twink in a mesh crop top, smiling and wide eyed, ready to attend his first frat. I knew what his fate would be. I rushed across the street to shout, 

“Young gay, please pray! 

In the yard you will wait, 

then at the door a brother says

If I don’t want to boink

The answer is nay”

He hit me with a “yasssss, old hag cuntttt”, which was very kind to say to an old wretch like me. I had hoped my advice would work but alas, all of his girl friends proceeded to abandon him as he got rejected by frat houses time and time again. I couldn’t bear to watch him be so sad, so I pointed him in the direction of an acapella party that would accept his kind.

It seems like the struggle of Allston just cannot be helped. Yet I try, like a frat yard Batman, to save the defenseless partygoers. Yet if my attempts keep being so fruitless I will play Batman no more. I will start to turn into……the Joker.