Little white headphones.
Pardon — “in-ear buds.”
That’s the disease that’s further crippling our famously antisocial campus, an infestation of tiny white buds that connect to our brains and control our every movement from a hidden control center that can only be found by tracing a tiny white wire into a pocket.
And because we are so antisocial, we’re certainly not going to start reaching into one another’s pockets to oust the little buggers — that might cause physical contact.
We glide past one another silently — as though in the fog created by that gross sewage thing near Allison Hall at Sheridan Road and Chicago Avenue. Should we see a familiar face that we just can’t ignore, we shout an I-can’t-hear-myself “HEY!” and don’t bother to find out if there’s a “How are ya?” follow-up.
Keep truckin’, we tell ourselves — if we slow down, if we stop, we betray our bitter camaraderie with the guys from Dashboard Confessional, Britney won’t think we’re Toxic anymore, and Lord knows Trey will never get his groove back.
Worse still, if we stop moving, someone might listen in. And nothing’s worse than getting caught with the Dixie Chicks on our way to economics.
My crazy theory is that we do this because we’re insecure and afraid of being happy.
Call me naive, but I think we’re all a damn sight happier than we say we are. We’re a campus of bitchers, quite openly, about everything from the weather to our favorite Democrat dropping out of the presidential race to our parents to the nonexistent A+.
Happiness is so uncool. Why should we be satisfied with a sunny day that’s freezing, John Kerry or a plain old A?
Because they’re good options, that’s why! But holy crap, look around — the average person you pass on the street will probably be alone, on the phone or wearing “ear buds.”
We do not make friends with people we see every day in the same places. Why?
Because it’s cooler to put our headphones on and avoid encountering a situation in which we might be asked our opinion, where we might get offended or offend, where we might have to smile.
By the way, I ride my bike with my iPod on, sometimes at night. I am a campus safety disaster waiting to happen, but that’s besides the point. I’m admitting my guilt — it’s so nice to avoid those awkward exchanges with acquaintances at Norris University Center when I can stroll through, bobbing along to a good song.
So I might be a hypocrite. But hey — if you stop, I’ll stop. Let’s stop.
I know we’re not the friendliest campus around, but those Bowling Alley kids aren’t gonna get anywhere with their NUNITY if we don’t stop and say hi to each other every now and then.
I know it’s hard to part with the $300-plus glorified hard drive in your pocket, especially when you bought it with long campus walks in mind.
But y’all, we have got to stop ignoring and start talking.
Abby Wolbe is a Weinberg junior. She can be reached at [email protected].
