2008 Woodie Awards
A drinking story
Chris Boucher
Issue date: 3/19/03 Section: Commentary
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A few weeks ago, the National Center on Addiction and Substance Abuse (I hadn't heard of them either) announced that they had made the stunning discovery that 20 percent of all alcohol consumed in America is by underage drinkers. The five people in this country who did not already know this expressed their shock and dismay on all the usual cable news outlets. Shock? Was it the beer sales that tipped them off? Someone buys Busch Light, and it isn't the wine and cheese crowd. Every freshman that comes to Georgetown quickly learns of the pervasiveness of underage drinking and the cat-and-mouse game played with the authorities over it. But by crying foul with scary-looking statistics, they obscure why drinking is so common among the 18-20 year old crowd. The problem lies with the system around us, not the drinker.
Let me take you back a few semesters. Chances are you've heard a story like this, and the chances are even greater that you've found yourself in a situation of this kind. For those who have outgrown such activities, consider this a refresher. That particular Friday was rather warm for a Washington October, or so we were told by the channel nine weatherman. Being freshmen from parts north (Tri-State region), we had no experience with which to judge it by. Besides, good weather made for pleasant walking, and we intended to drink to the point where we would be numb to any temperature. Enough people had assembled in the New South hallway by 10:15 p.m. (about 20 or so) to head out.
We still barely knew each other's names at this point, but we all intended to drink, and that gave us a common purpose. Some were decorated veterans of the keg stand, while others had drunk their first beer just five weeks ago. But Georgetown prides itself on diversity, and here was a wide range of diverse experience filing out the front doors of the dorm and into the night. At first we simply bounced from one end of the campus to the other, looking for a party where there was good chance we wouldn't have the door slammed in our faces. Fortunately, someone called somebody and the location of a place with too much beer and not enough people was relayed down the line. T Street sounded like a bit of a hike, but the weather was warm and some hoped that they wouldn't have to remember the long walk back.
Let me take you back a few semesters. Chances are you've heard a story like this, and the chances are even greater that you've found yourself in a situation of this kind. For those who have outgrown such activities, consider this a refresher. That particular Friday was rather warm for a Washington October, or so we were told by the channel nine weatherman. Being freshmen from parts north (Tri-State region), we had no experience with which to judge it by. Besides, good weather made for pleasant walking, and we intended to drink to the point where we would be numb to any temperature. Enough people had assembled in the New South hallway by 10:15 p.m. (about 20 or so) to head out.
We still barely knew each other's names at this point, but we all intended to drink, and that gave us a common purpose. Some were decorated veterans of the keg stand, while others had drunk their first beer just five weeks ago. But Georgetown prides itself on diversity, and here was a wide range of diverse experience filing out the front doors of the dorm and into the night. At first we simply bounced from one end of the campus to the other, looking for a party where there was good chance we wouldn't have the door slammed in our faces. Fortunately, someone called somebody and the location of a place with too much beer and not enough people was relayed down the line. T Street sounded like a bit of a hike, but the weather was warm and some hoped that they wouldn't have to remember the long walk back.