They say that time flies like an arrow and fruit flies like a banana. My university life has been a peach of an experience and, for around a quarter of the university population, it’s finally time to go home for good.
In my three years here, I’ve made friends, met acquaintances and had experiences that will stay with me for as long as my memory does.
I’ve met people who have inadvertently gone to seminars revealing their genitals, people who have jumped naked into the lake, people who have nearly evacuated a classroom because of their abhorrent flatulance which they then proceeded to blame on someone else, people who have thrown their smart phone into the Ouse, people who have dressed up as penguins and played the banjo by the lake in the dead of night, and even people who can’t place the United Kingdom on an atlas.
In the two years of this column, I’ve also pissed off a lot of people to whom I offer no apology. There have been times when I’ve pissed off the entirety of York St John, our cheerleading squad, the independent councillor for Osbaldwick and our kit supplier Kukri.
There are also a few things my conscience compels me to own up to before I leave for good. Rob Aitken, the former Derwent provost and current Constantine principal, is one of the best men I’ve met at York, but I have to say that when the radiator came off the wall and flooded the kitchen in my halls in first year, I have to take most of the blame.
I was a victim of that silly drinking game where we are told that a shark is coming and no one can touch the floor. Sadly, in a kitchen at twice its capacity, I didn’t have a chair to jump on so a few of us jumped on a radiator instead, forgetting Derwent is made of plasticine. As a result, Security Services were called and, thankfully, they were quite sympathetic and their female officer was very calming. That was until I walked into my first ever seminar, and there she was, sat ready to lead the bloody session. Awkward.
Thankfully, Dr Aitken decided not to bill us for our radiator, although he’ll now wish he had. Especially after I invited him to watch Constantine win promotion under my management (with help from others). Amazed as he was at our illustrious win and guaranteed promotion, he was probably shocked when I let my feelings known to a postgrad player, calling him a “PhDickhead” before telling him where to go. I’ve been nothing but a mild irritation to that man for three years.
I’ve also learned a lot about how little impact individual humans have on society, despite the radical left at this University thinking otherwise. No woman I’ve met at York has an answer for patriarchy and, from an ethnographic study of the women I’ve seen over the past years, women are largely horrible. Perhaps when they start being nice to each other they’ll be able find the female solidarity they parade themselves by.
The Christians are really nice but they tend to fight each other as well, so no world peace from them. Anyone in a political party just shouts buzzwords, so no end to poverty and yet another fox-hunting social.
And the LarpSoc Sunday sword fighters: what the fuck is that even about? These people can vote!
As for me, I’ve got to venture into the real world with a sociology degree and a CV showing me to be a bully and a shoddy journalist.
I’ve always wondered whether this column is a genuine attempt at future employability or more of a cry for help.