Meet the Browns

So my friends and I have this running joke that Brown University isn't a real educational institution. There's no particular reason for this other than the fact that the students there are permitted to create their own majors and when we were driving through Rhode Island once, we were going to stop at Brown to get something to eat but weren't able to since there wasn't one sign on the highway alerting us to the exit for Brown University.

Which has led us to believe it's some sort of invisible or imaginary school, somewhat like Hogwarts, but with a lot less magic and awesome.

A few Saturdays ago I was hanging out with my friend L. She had just been set up with this guy and had made tentative plans to hang out with him that night, but when she texted him to see if they were still on, he replied, "Playing beirut all day, so don't expect anything fancy tonight."

Which is just a bizarre response, unless he was kidding, but I'm not sure that he was. So after some back and forth they decided on a bar that isn't very conducive to a date - it is on a boat in the pier, sells buckets of beers, and tends to be the meeting ground for ex-still-wannabe-current-frat boys. So she asked me to tag along since his friends would be there as well, and therefore she'd have backup if it was awful.

So after getting there and acquiring a bucket of beer, L and I met up with the guy, who turned out to be pretty nice but announced that twenty of his closest friends were about to join us because it was his birthday.

Pause.

That's right, he had made a date with L on the night before his birthday and then tricked her into attending his birthday party instead. I was somewhat puzzled and more curious to meet his "friends," because now I wasn't sure if he had any.

True to his word, ten girls and guys showed up shortly and a flurry of awkward introductions were made, since they all asked how I knew the birthday boy and I had literally met him ten minutes prior.

It turns out they all went to Brown together. Like all of them. As in L and I were the only ones that couldn't join the Brown University Alumni Association. Apparently they still hang out together all the time.

Now, I have no problem with people staying close to college classmates. Some of my best friends are my friends from college. But I said some. As in I have made other friends throughout the years and now my social circle consists of people from a wide variety of backgrounds. Which is natural in a city like New York where there are so many people.

That is why I am slightly wary whenever I meet people that exclusively socialize with their group of friends from college. I know some guys like that from my own college, guys that were fraternity brothers and still live together in disgusting apartments with kegs. Basically, they are trying to live out their fraternity years as long as physically possible. And I personally find that wrong and weird on multiple levels.

So yes, I was slightly weirded out by the Brown kids and felt incredibly awkward and out of place, so I started texting my friend S to come up with an exit strategy.

Me: I am surrounded by these really annoying brown people and it makes me want to vomit.

S: That may be the most racist text I've ever seen.

Me: No no!!!! I meant people that went to Brown University! It wasn't racist at all! If anything it was schoolist!

S: Uh huh.

Me: No seriously! I mean it! They're all really white and really really preppy! Popped collars!

S: Sure.

Me: Really! There's a guy here wearing those Brooks Brothers khakis that have stuff all over them. His have American Flags. He keeps standing up and pointing out how patriotic his pants are. And it's nowhere close to July 4th.

S: Oh, gross.

Me: Yeah, I know.

S: That sounds terrible.

After my escape plan failed due to my accidental racism, I struck up a conversation with the birthday boy's roommates, during which they let me in on the fact that they have lived together since college, for seven years now (warning flags, anyone else?).

I informed them that is almost long enough to be in a common law marriage in NY, at which point they got VERY excited.

Roommate 1: Ohhh I'm going to use your health insurance!

Roommate 2: You better start making some money so you can support me!

Me: You two are pretty excited about this. Have you guys ever been, ahem, more than friends?

Roommate 1: That's my girlfriend sitting over there.

Roommate 2: But yeah, there was that one time.

Roommate 1: Which time?

Roommate 2: You know, the time, in my bed.

Roommate 1: Oooooh yeah! That time!

Me: Are you guys messing with me? What time is this?

Roommate 1: No, no. There was this one time when my sister was staying over so I let her take the bed, and I was going to sleep on the loveseat in the living room, which was really uncomfortable. So when he got home he told me I could sleep in his bed.

Roommate 2: I have a really large king bed, so I didn't care if he slept in my bed as long as he stayed on the other side.

Roommate 1: Yeah, and I didn't want to sleep with my legs in the air on the loveseat, so I was all about it. So we go to sleep, on opposite sides of the bed. And in the morning I wake up, and I feel a hand rubbing me on the chest. And it feels really good! So I let it go for about a minute. Then I open my eyes.

Me: And you saw that it was the hand of a man and freaked out?

Roommate 1: Welll I opened my eyes and I saw these bamboo sticks he has on his wall, and I got confused and was like, "Where am I?" And then I looked over and realized it was him.

Roommate 2: So I can't help it. I have these sleep issues where I all into such a deep sleep that you could punch me and I wouldn't know it. I've sleepwalked other places and have no recollection of it. Plus I wake up every morning spooning my pillow, so I guess that night I thought he was my pillow.

Me: Yes, because the hairy chest of man has the exact same feeling as a pillow...

Roommate 2: I don't remember! I guess he kicked me and woke me up.

Roommate 1: I shook him and said, "Dude you were touching my chest!" And he just mumbled something and went back to sleep.

Roommate 2: Whatever!

I was pretty amused by this story. I don't know too many comfortable heterosexual guys that would tell this story to a stranger and laugh about it. In fact, the last time I heard of two hetero men sharing the same bed at a hotel, they made a point of telling me that they slept on the opposite sides of the bed on the edge and had no contact whatsoever.

I should've just called it a night at this point, because clearly things weren't going to get better. However, on my way off the boat to go to another bar, I saw a girl slip in a puddle and as I started to laugh at her, I slipped in the exact same puddle, and totally wiped out.

Full on, legs in the air, skirt flew up, crashed onto my back on the ramp bit it. And somehow in the process, I also managed to unlock my phone and speed dial my parents. So they received a voice mail of me screeching and cursing. My mom was quite confused and asked me later if I had been drunk. I responded that I wish I had been because it would've hurt less and been less embarrassing.

In retrospect, I was obviously being punished for my racist text message earlier. But really, it was all a misunderstanding. I'm not a fan of Brown people, Brown with a capital B!

The giant bruise on my back will be a reminder to never again make that mistake.