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All I Did at Penn Was Snort Cocaine. I'm Okay With That.


Photo by Alexandra E Rust / CC by 2.0

If you saw me walking down Locust today, you’d probably see me as a tall, obnoxious, punchable, blonde-haired, pale man with AirPods and a knock-off Rolex. But to the few people here on campus that know me beyond that, I’m also a third generation legacy, upper middle class, prep kid from a New England private school that has the emotional intelligence of Donald Trump’s pinky toes. 

When I was in high school, I didn’t realize that more than one college existed until my junior year, because all my dad talked about was me going to Penn, where he donated so much money that I could commit a triple homicide and still get admitted. I think I was only the 531st person ever from my high school to go to Penn, but I was hardly excited, because I knew I was getting in no matter what. 

My freshman year at Penn was far from easy. My parents gave me a weekly budget of only five hundred dollars. I was rejected from two Wharton consulting clubs. Although my high school friends told me what a bro I was, I didn’t get a bid from Pi Epsilon. The brothers suggested I consider rushing another frat — Kappa Omega. I was reluctant, because I assumed it was one of those frats that wouldn’t land me a network of sinfully wealthy alumni. Nonetheless, I went to a few of their rush events, and to my surprise, I fell in love, especially with the cocaine. The encouraging, brotherhood-centered environment and non-judgmental approach to my cocaine habits were much appreciated, and by the end of the month I had gotten a bid and developed a severe coke addiction. 

Evidently, there are students at Penn who are just like me, but there are very few who also love coke as much as I do. The hyper-competitive Penn culture can make us feel that we need to do it all and have it all, but I don’t let it bother me because I’m literally a fucking G. Although we have the power to choose to define ourselves and our achievements under our own standards, you know that’s fucking horse shit and that I’ll be wildly more successful than you’ll ever be (like, once I kick the coke habit).