Gina: College
After high school, Gina left her Midwestern home eager to remake herself. She imagined the eastern liberal arts school she had chosen would be the perfect place to be reborn. It would be an intellectual environment where she would be appreciated, a place to fit in, and a culture where she would no longer be considered odd, rather, exceptional like all of the other elite students. She would leave the philistines and the petty bourgeoisie of her dreary world behind in the rural dust. Gina's superiority would at last be recognized. Gina would engage the world, connect, join, mix—hook up. There would be friends, even a boyfriend, and sex, adventurous sex. Maybe Gina could even learn to laugh.
She would find a boyfriend, someone smart, interesting, and good-looking. She would no longer be lonely and isolated, and she need not worry that she was too picky about friends because only brightest kids got into this school. At college, she would not have to look down on anyone, and no one would look down on her. Here at her new school the boys would be smart and interesting, and so they would like and appreciate her.
Gina would find a boy who was caring, hip, and funny. He'd be cultured, daring, athletic, and well read. Her new boyfriend would be world wise, cheerful, innocent, sensuous, experienced, and fresh. He would be as handsome as Gina was pretty. He would her give space and be there when she needed him. He would be strong, but vulnerable; open, yet centered; creative and dependable; forgiving and principled; imaginative, steadfast; spontaneous, reliable; audacious and affectionate, but most of all appreciative. Gina wouldn't have to put up with those zit-picking cretins any longer.
When she arrived, Gina discovered that all girls were scrambling to get into the right sorority. Gina too wanted to escape the cramped, regimented dorm. She felt as if she had been stuffed into a cabinet drawer in a corporate file room so enormous it was invisible. However, Gina did not have clue which sorority was the way up to the brave new world where she belonged. Rush seemed to be no more than a daze of drunken banality, just children behaving badly. These should have been all the elite students. Why didn't someone tell her where the smart kids were?
Gina went to all the parties, but she mostly sat by silently watching everyone else having a great time mixing and mating. Gina tried to fit in; she tried to be acceptable; she tried to be bright and cheerful; she tried to talk. She smiled a lot. That was hard. Gina was painfully aware that rush was a competitive test, and those who passed won entry to a better world. And those who didn't? Well, they just sort of fell off the edge of the world. Gina tossed sleeplessly at night, shaken by anxiety and doubt.
Gina did not realize that she could have gotten into any of the sororities and that they were all pretty much the same. Even though the other girls thought Gina was a bit of a hick due to her Midwestern accent, her shyness was mistaken to be a sign of a studious intelligence, even superiority. And Gina had the one trait that really mattered; she was the prettiest of that year's crop of freshmen girls. The selection committees judged the pledges by the attractiveness of their faces, the length of their legs, the slenderness of their waists, and the density of their hair. Of course, the committees did not use that vocabulary. Rather they told themselves they were looking for interesting, confidant, and popular girls, but in the jittery mania of rush week, no one could really judge these things, and so the superficial ruled. The pretty girls won. And as peculiar and private as Gina was, she was the prettiest.
Poor Gina did not know she had won the game just by walking into the room. She sat quietly by the side, and softly and politely deflecting conversations. Inside she was a storm of self-loathing.
On the fourth straight night of parties, Gina was so bored she gave up and left early. As she stepped out of the door, a slight, pretty girl with plain brown hair and no make up touched her arm. She wore a beat up motorcycle jacket and biker boots, and spoke a badly faked workingman's dialect covering a refined upper crust accent. "This is a sad excuse for a party, ain't it? Boring. But hang in a bit. Come back in with me and I'll show you how to have fun even here. Stick with me; let me be your tour guide at this zoo. I'll show you how funny it all is."
Gina looked into the stranger's soft brown eyes and thought, "Maybe this is the cool friend I have been looking for." She liked the leather jacket; it reminded her of the happiest day of her life. Gina didn't say anything; she didn't have to, because the girl seemed to know exactly who and what Gina was. She slipped her arm under Gina elbow, mocked a dance to the excessively loud house-music, and escorted Gina back to the party.
"That one over there, the one with the big tits and all the cleavage hanging out; she's the queen bee. Queeny is so proud of those boobs. Her Daddy bought them for her. She's not an officer of the sorority, because that would be actual work, but she's in charge. The skinny one over there with too much makeup, the giraffe, they call her President, but her actual title is Queen Bee Flunky. See the chubby wart hog over there with the porcine herd at the bar giggling and swilling down the beers. She's the Social Director, which means she does all the work that the queen bee has told the giraffe to do. As you can see we have lots of herd animals at our zoo—elephants, wildebeests, and rhinos. The queen bee puts up with them because they pay the bills. See that prissy little thing at the punch bowl. You wouldn't know it to look at her but she's a baboon. I know she's a baboon because last year at the end of rush she got down on her knees to show off her pink butt to a group fraternity baboons, and then she took on all of them. The queen bee didn't like that one bit, and she stung the bad girl baboon."
Gina was smiling for the first time in weeks. She might have laughed if she were able, but she had not learned that trick yet. Just as Gina was finally having fun at the zoo, the queen bee confronted the sightseers. "Ashley, didn't we tell your never to step foot in here again. Didn't the judge say the same thing, 'Cease. Desist'. What part of 'Stay Away' isn't clear? You were not invited, so you will have to leave. Sorry if you miss our parties, our company, our fun, but you had your chance and you blew it, so leave. Gina, I am so sorry about this; please stay. Ashley is just trying to get some sort of sick revenge for being kicked out of our sorority. Please come with me, there are some people you should meet."
The girl in the motorcycle jacket smiled at the queen bee and said, "Queeny, you're such a bore. I see you're all getting good and drunk again. Remember last year? Remember how drunk you got and how you tried to stop the girls just as they were going to have some real fun sucking the cocks of the entire football team. 'Ladies, please. This is highly improper.' Then you puked your guts out. Now that was funny. But mostly you're just a bore, no fun at all...Queeny."
