I was eating dinner at one of our many fine dining halls one day when, by chance, I happened to overhear a conversation between two typical U of C students sitting one table across from me. Suddenly, one of them erupted in a fiery display of passion about the subject at hand. Leaping into the air, he fervently shouted, “Are you serious? You’ve NEVER seen a teslacoil? What kind of a monstrosity are you?” Munching on my turkey sandwich, I watched with interest as the other nerds picked up the scent of the now-disgraced geek. As they circled in for the kill, rhythmically chanting in bloodlust, I thought to myself, “this is no good.” The geek sat there quietly, hanging his head in anticipation of what he knew was to come, racked with the shame his inadequacy had brought upon his family and friends. For a brief moment, there was only silence. Then, I witnessed the most horrible devastation ever enacted on another human being. They had forgotten my pickles…and I fucking hate turkey without pickles. As I got up to yell at the dining-staff, the ominous chanting started again and grew louder:

Einstein, Newton, Hertz, and Bohr

There can’t be anyone, anything more.

Joule, Urey, Planck, and Drake

If you don’t know them, we’ll bring out the stake.

Nobel, Fermi, Watts, and Crick

Eat his heart now, we’ll stop its tick!

Don’t forget our dear friend Kirschoff

…But since you have we’ll tear your limbs off.

Einstein, Newton, Hertz, and Bohr

Avert your eyes, boys, here comes the gore.

I had to go to the bathroom, so I don’t have any idea what happened next. But it got me thinking–maybe, just maybe, the anti-social nerds of our school are just victims. And I don’t mean victims like the teslacoil boy. I mean victims in the sense that maybe they just don’t know how to loosen up. Maybe they’ve never been to a party and don’t know how to start. Honestly, if the average student here were to be called a “party animal” by anyone, we would all just assume that we were talking about a type of animal that regularly gets its ass kicked by both the Lady and the Tramp. And that got me thinking, too–why exactly does the straight guy across the hall from me own that movie? And on DVD?

When I returned to the problem at hand, however, I decided that a decision had to be made about the recluses on campus. And I realized that if I’ve learned anything at all in my time at this university–at this monumental nexus of knowledge, tolerance, and hope–it’s that those people are losers. And nobody likes them. All the same, though, I figured I would give them a few basic tips on how to enjoy their social lives a little bit more. Because if they start crossing the midway more often, they might also start taking showers. And that would be nice.

Tip #1: Go to parties with people you aren’t actually friends with. There’s no better time to hang out with people you dislike than when they’re piss-drunk and can’t tell that your parents weren’t really overrun by aborigines and eaten alive during their church-trip to Six Flags.

Tip #2: NEVER do a lot of heavy drinking around “unkempt” girls. This one is self-explanatory.

Tip #3: Try not to drink in the shower. I knew a guy who did that once, passed out, and hit the tub so hard he got a concussion. His friends, instead of helping him, came in and shaved all the hair off his body.