Red cup college keg party

It was the end of the mixer and this guy climbed up on the podium to shout over the crowds of incoming film students grazing on cheese and wine in Sound Stage A. He gave the after-party address, then added: “We hope you all don’t show up.”

I got a ride with a fellow student – a second year editor from South Africa – via a fast food sushi joint (they serve their sashimi in strips! It’s weird!) to the digs. It’s such a “boys’ house.” They’re all editors. The walls are covered with posters bought off E-Bay. The floors are covered with evidence that they work 18-hour days. It was hot, and the party filled the living room and the yard and the kitchen. We soon ran out of ice.

party donation jar

Guests either bring their own beer, or donate and drink the Jungle Juice or keg beer, or just swipe other people's. Apart from the donation jar, it's pretty much like home.

I met four people called Michael. Wait, at least four people named Michael. In fact there are so many people in America called Michael that I figure if I forget someone’s name, I will simply chance it and call them Mike. There’s a one in five chance I’ll be right – and those are good odds.

Any resemblance to fictitious characters from college movies (watchable or unwatchable) you've seen is purely coincidental.

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