Sometimes, It Makes Me Speechless

The other day at work, the conversation turned to fraternities and sororities.  The Editor Across the Aisle had asked me where I went to school, since it turns out we are both from Iowa. (Someday, I will really start the club Originally From Iowa, and it will have more members across the country, especially in California, Chicago and Kansas City, than any other state's club, because nobody that is born and raised in Iowa lives there in their thirties.)  I told her my old house, then along came another co-worker, he of the famed Bathroom Humor, and mentioned that he had been in a fraternity, lo, the same fraternity as a few of our other co-workers.

This led to a description of living in the Greek houses.  My experience with living in the sorority house was a) it sucks to have to hide your alcohol, b) it's nice to have cleaning ladies - an experience I would draw upon later in life, c) everyone borrows your car when you live in a sorority house and d) if I didn't already know how to make myself throw up by college, I would've learned how in the communal bathroom.  Some of those rumors are true, kids.  My co-worker went on to describe the antebellum splendor of sorority houses, how nice and clean they are, etc., etc.  Fraternity houses are, of course, NOT CLEAN. In fact, they are not the sort of place you want to go the bathroom in, let alone exist.

Then we talked about how I was not only Greek, but I was also on the Panhellenic Council.  I busted parties with underage drinking after giving a thirty-five minute warning and loudly announcing my presence so that anyone underage stupid enough to still be holding a cup deserved a little extra study hall and a monetary fine.  The remainder of the conversation was as follows:

Co-Worker:  "I remember we used to get so crazy in the house. I hated living there. They were always throwing things."

Me:  "Really? Like what?"

Co-Worker:  "Like...beer bottles."

Editor: (incredulously)  "What?  Didn't you get hurt?"

Co-Worker: "Well, one guy did cut his eye when a bottle broke. We took him to the hospital, got in trouble, all that.  After that they passed out safety glasses when we partied."

Editor:  "Why didn't you use cans?"

Me:  "Or kegs?"

Next...followed a stunned silence.  My co-worker was actually dumbfounded that they hadn't just used cans.  We were blown away that he was blown away.  It was one of those surreal moments when you realize just how scary group-think can be.

Alpha Beta Gamma Delta Epsilon Zeta Eta Theta Iota Kappa Lambda Mu Nu Xi Omicron Pi Rho Sigma Tau Epsilon Phi Chi Psi Omega...I can barely remember being that person, but I can still sing the damn alphabet.