Saturday, September 12, 2009

There are two kinds of people - Greeks, and everyone else who wish they was Greek.

Alternate title: We all different, but in the end, we all fruit.

The September stories started when I pledged a sorority at UF. (It's so weird to call it UF anywhere outside of Florida.) I'm not going to go into details about when or why or rush or "hazing" or what-have-you.

I was a sorority girl. That alone shocks some people. Others, not so much.

It has served me well in life. I am still friends (especially on FB) with some of my sorority sisters, and I can say the Greek alphabet in less than 30 seconds. If I could burp it, I'd be a frat boy.


I was a sorority girl, and I had a crush on a fraternity boy. Actually, I had a crush on a couple of different fraternity boys. I went to a Lambda Chi party for the sole purpose of falling in love and marrying one such oddly-named blue blood, and end up hanging out all evening with one of his older "brothers", only to end the evening kissing him and then going out on a couple of dates after that. To this day I tell people that I was accidentally dating this guy. He was a rugby player, which was kind of cool at the time, but that only lasted roughly five minutes.

Our sorority announced a date function to Medieval Times, where we picked out a date and hopped on a bus and drove down to Tampa for the evening. Now, since I was only accidentally dating the rugby player, I really wasn't interested on inviting him along. We'd reached the part of the relationship in which I wasn't really interested in answering his calls either. But in the world of Greek politics, that also meant, much as I wanted to, I couldn't have invited his blue-blooded brother (whom I affectionately call Coach) either. Bummer. Now, in reality, since I was so in luv with Coach that speaking to him involved about fourteen people and passing a note in study hall and giggles and shyness, I couldn't have asked him if I'd wanted to. Hey...just keepin' it real.

About a week before the date function, I was still fretting about what to do in regards to the date I was supposed to bring and had already paid for. Should I just give up the search and invite my accidental boyfriend, or wait it out. Oh the dilemma. Friday night was Beta's annual luau, and I was headed there with my sorority sister Hogan, who was dating Lex Luther.

I threw on my lei and headed down to the makeshift beach set up on frat row. I mixed, I mingled, and I met another boy who was as cute as humanly possible. We flirted. We laughed. I twirled my hair around my fingers and shrieked when he splashed me. I oohed and aahed and touched his flexxed arm muscle and made it clear I thought he was the cutest thing ever. After a while, he had to go do some fraternal duty, and we headed home.

As Hogan and another sister and I were leaving the party, a boy came up to us and pointed and said "you, you, In the pool. now." And so, we all jumped back in the pool and he immediately left.

I remember it all as though it happened just moments ago. I can see it in my mind. I can see the drink in his hand and the lei around his neck, and I could draw the look on his face because I saw it so many times after that.

Without realizing it, I'd just met George.

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