It was the first night at McMaster for most of us. You stuck close to the friends you already knew, while feeling out the rest of the first year population. There were countless half-assed introductions to people you knew you’d never hang out with ever again.
“So what res are you in?....cool man, I’m _____, yea man see ya around!”
So we returned Whidden, however we wanted to orient ourselves better on campus. To do that, we walked past the residence towards Commons,
There in the tunnel we met Anders.
Anders wasn’t the tallest guy, but he was muscular. Built like a fucking tank. He was drunk (an understatement), and like most other people you met during welcome week, he felt the need to introduce himself to us.
So we stood there in awkward conversation. Partly because I was afraid getting my nerd ass beat, partly because it was entertaining.
The conversation shifted to one of the Welcome Week events. The Mac Mixer was like a bad game of “Simon Says”. It involved disorganized commands from a megaphone. One of them was to sit on someone else. I sat on this tall stylish guy named George or Greg or something. Anders however, had something sit on him. Something he definitely liked.
“Man I had this Hungarian chick sit on me. Man she was so hot. She was like this foreign Hungarian chick.”
He went off on this tangent for a minute, during which we noticed something interesting: his hand was down his pants.
He did this by taking his hand out from the front of his pants, and then putting it in the back of his pants, keeping him arm out like the handle of a teapot. Then he started a sort of staccato dance, stepping forwards and backwards, while quickly flashing his right hand in the shape of a gun out from behind his back, while keep his arm still. He muttered “He’d do it like this man, like this” the entire time he did it.
Predictably the conversation then steered to Pac-Man Jones’ propensity for “making it rain”. He then used the same hand to show how he’d “make it rain”. He did this by putting all his fingers together, moving his hand up, and then spreading them apart.
“Just like this man,” he said “He’d go in there and do it just like this”.
He then added the “make it rain” to his gun flashing dance, alternating between the two.
He took this seriously.
“No man, he’d be nothing in prison, they’d just take him and beat him, like this.”
Now I wasn’t really worried about him hurting me, more about the hand that was down his pants being so close to my face. Luckily Derek distracted him and his dirty hand with another football question.
