In case you’ve only just emerged out of your post-4/20 haze back into the (finally!) sunny world of Northwestern, there’s something you should probably know: It’s prospie season again. This morning, I ran into four herds of them between University Hall and Kellogg alone. We’re sharing our beloved, and suddenly redecorated, campus with hundreds of fresh-faced, idealistic youngsters who have no idea what they’re walking into. Which is probably why they keep bumping into us on our way to class.
Whether you’re yelling dire warnings about Northwestern’s dating scene from the steps of Harris, flashing your sorority gear at them in a sneaky, planning-way-too-far-ahead recruitment maneuver or taking two of them to Hundo with your friends, the temptation to play with the prospies is overwhelming. It’s fine to have a little bit of fun at their expense — after all, we’re paying to be here and they aren’t. Yet. But don’t forget that you, too, were once one of these naive little pieces of jailbait, wandering around campus clutching your bright purple folder. We’ve all been there, so let’s have a little sympathy for them.
Keeping that in mind, this week’s drink comes to you in the spirit of prospie solidarity.
