I Choo-Choo-Choose You
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By staff writer Emmanuel Witzman



Volume 19 - February 16, 2003

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Amidst my usual collection of fan mail ("You're not that funny. Give up.") I found a letter telling me that my comedy is good, but it's too bitter. This week is the
Valentine's Day edition. So I guess my response is: You ain't seen nothing yet. And if you think I'm curmudgeonly in my column, wait until you meet me in person. I don't
know how anyone puts up with me long enough to ask to borrow money. Here's what happened:

-As soon as we got the new phone books, everyone rushed to see if their names were in it. You see, for many people, this is the first time
they've ever lived away from home, and thus did not have to settle for having their parents' names in the phone book instead of them. Some guys even ripped the page with
their number out of the phone book and framed it in their room, a symbol of their newfound independence and maturity. Of course, by doing this, their names were no longer
actually in the phone book, since that page was missing, but whatever. A person who goes that far, it wouldn't surprise you to know that nobody ever calls them
anyway.

-My friends always ask me to be the one who takes the pictures of them, which has the unfortunate side effect of there being absolutely no
pictures of me. Whenever people get a roll developed, they always ask me if I want a set of the photos. Why? There's no proof that I even know them. I could just walk
around the city of Victoria, randomly photographing unsuspecting tourists, and then when I go home I can tell people that these are my friends.

-A guy on our floor decided to shave his head. Pretty soon half the guys on our floor had followed suit. Our bathroom is like a crackhouse
barber shop, with someone's head being shaved at all hours of the night while everyone gets drunk and watches. With everybody having the same (non-)haircut, I feel like
I've joined a cult. I'd tell you more, but I'm really not supposed to talk about it. Pass the Kool-Aid.

-Quote of the Moment: Overheard at Subway, with complete sincerity: "How big is your footlong sub?"

-A lot of people hate Valentine's Day (or, as my friend Jason so eloquently put it: "Single's Awareness Day"). I don't know. I kind of like
it. Christmastime is the time when people come together to celebrate family and friendship, Halloween is when people come together to celebrate pranks and free candy. But
Valentine's Day, that's the one day of the year where couples come together to make single people feel like shit. There's no other day that so clearly separates the
winners from the losers.

-I was always the kid in school who, on Valentine's Day, gave out valentines to everyone and then got nothing in return. I didn't even get
pity valentines. Sometimes, if I was really lucky, somebody who didn't like me would give me the carcass of a wounded animal. This Valentine's Day, I promised it would be
different. I had a romantic candlelit dinner at Taco Bell by myself. Takes the pressure off.

-I woke up this February 14th to find a Valentine taped to my whiteboard. I was so happy, I was sure somebody thought I was special. Then I
realized everyone else got one too, and it kind of lost its effect. At least, back in grade school, I could say I was the ONLY one to get a present from cute Mary Sue,
even if it was roadkill.

-Now Playing: "I Fall To Pieces" by Patsy Cline. Nothing's better than country music on Valentine's Day. Country Music, the music of
pain.

-Turns out, in order to get dates, you have to be in shape. Also, with the prohibitive cost of anabolic steroids, the only feasible way to
get in shape is to go to the gym. Problem was, I didn't have a gym pass. So one of my friends, John, tells me to just borrow someone else's gym pass because "no one ever
checks. I'd bet my life on it." These gym passes don't have names on them, just numbers, so even though they're not transferable, they might as well be. So I borrow a
pass, go to the gym, and, what do you know they're checking passes. The gym bouncer asks to see my gym pass, I show it to him, and then he asks me "What's your name?"
Problem was, I didn't know the name of the person I borrowed the pass from. I felt like Homer Simpson when he was trying to retrieve the letter he sent to his boss from
the post office. So I didn't end up going to the gym, John's life is forfeit, and I learned that exercise is highly overrated.

-Do you know a guy among your group of
friends who always says these cool and easily replicable catchphrases that everyone else copies for the rest of the semester? And then, because everyone's been
copying him (it's always a guy), he stops saying his catchphrase until the novelty dies down, and when he finally starts saying it again, it sounds strange coming out of
his mouth because you've been hearing all these other people say it for the last 2 months?

-One of my friends' dad came down to visit him for the week. Before he came, Brian told me that as far as his dad was concerned, he didn't
drink or smoke. Right. Because Brian is the first person to ever have drank or smoked in college. I'm sure his dad doesn't suspect a thing.

-I was on my way to class when a new-age retro hippie girl wearing nothing that wasn't made of hemp stopped me and asked me to join the
anti-war protest. I actually don't have strong opinions on the subject, but to shut her up and get her to walk away from me as fast as her birkenstocks would take her, I
said "Actually, I'm pro-war." What? Somebody has to be. Otherwise there'd be no war.

-Your term paper is due tomorrow, it's 8pm and you haven't started yet. So you decide you're going to pull an all-nighter. Right there,
that's your mistake. Now that you've committed to staying up all night, you procrastinate a little longer. 2am rolls around, you're like "I still have 6 hours" and you
watch some TV. Then it gets to 5am, and you think "I should really get down to work" but by then you can't think straight and instead of writing your paper you have your
friends shave your head. It's ok, they won't mind. They're not working on their papers, either.

-Have you ever had someone who just barges into your room without knocking, and then starts looking through your drawers and then when he
can't find what he's looking for he turns to you with this frustrated look and when you ask him what he wants he says 'nothing' and then leaves, shaking his head? Is this
normal?

-Another common personality is the guy who always forgets his meal card. So we're standing in line at the cafeteria and you have no choice
but to pay for him. Then he promises he'll pay you back. How? I always have my fucking meal card. I'm not an idiot.

-Do you know anybody who doesn't have a computer? Have you seen their desk? They actually have books on it, and they can study and
everything. For me, my desk is just something to put my computer on. By the time I get my computer, monitor, printer, keyboard, mouse and scanner all hooked up there's
barely enough room left on my desk for me to put my keys.

-And what about those people who own a laptop, but they never take it anywhere, so in order to justify the added cost of
portability they unhook their laptop from their external keyboard and mouse and then do their homework on their bed. What is wrong with you? How can you possibly justify
using that stupid touchpad that never lets you move the pointer all the way across the screen and makes it impossible to double-click, especially when there's a mouse on
your desk, two feet away? Have you been mixing medications again?

-Where the hell did I put my keys? Or my meal card, for that matter? Dammit, I need a bigger desk.

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