The beginning of school this year was eerily quiet. I sat around on the first Friday night with nothing to do. There weren’t any parties. No one understood Georgetown’s new alcohol polices. Campus was dead. I refused to leave my apartment to hopelessly roam around with the herds of freshman and upperclassmen looking for parties that didn’t exist. I turned on my television and sent out a group text.
“Nothing to do. Come over.”
Two of my friends soon joined me, and I was more than happy to be comfortable and in my own home. I imagined this was more fun than looking for a party, and even if we found one, I wasn’t standing around a keg attempting to ignore the freshmen trying to hit on me. My friends pulled out the blender, and I began to gaze out my window.
My window is my favorite part of my Village A apartment. My room is too small to hold two desk and two beds, so I put my desks by the window in the living room, directly across from the old Jesuit residence, west of the library. The view has become quite a distraction. I’d much rather people-watch out my window than study Italian or stare at my computer screen.
So that night I stayed in. As the night progressed, my friends and I tried our hardest not to judge (out loud) the people stumbling by my window. Georgetown on a Friday night is typically ridiculous, but Georgetown on a Friday night where there are no parties and drunk people with nowhere to go is particularly ridiculous.
There were the drunk freshmen obviously trying their hardest not to vomit until they got back to New South. I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic as I saw a girl throwing up on the pavement as her friend held back her hair—My first night out freshman year ended similarly. The freshmen, for some reason, looked so young and inexperienced. I thought back to beginning of my freshman year, and cringed when I thought about all the mistakes I made, and Georgetown freshman still seem to make.The upperclassmen are more interesting to watch. This was probably because I know many of them. It could also be because regardless of their experience they acted the same year after year. While the freshmen seem to be everywhere, it was actually a drunk junior holding a bottle of liquor walking by New South as he screamed, “Whooo! College!!” After he passed, I saw a girl from my freshman history class stumbling down the street wearing the same 4-inch stilettos that she couldn’t walk in last year. I looked out my window a few minutes later to see the same girl sprinting, for no obvious reason, down the hill toward Leo’s. I couldn’t help but laugh and point her out to my friends. Drunk people are always entertaining from afar.
While my window is a constant source of entertainment, it’s not my only one. I stay in because there isn’t anything to do, not because I want to distance myself from the Georgetown nightlife. However, sitting in my apartment on a Friday night having a drink, I enjoy calm atmosphere as I watch a very hectic campus move below me.
Campus is slowly returning to normal. Parties are increasing as the administration is forced to change its new alcohol policies. I find myself going out more. I still stay in some nights, but more often find myself outside enjoying the Georgetown nightlife. Occasionally, I look up, wondering if there’s someone behind some other window. There probably is, but I don’t think about it as a friend grabs my arm and we go to another party.
