Squirt Gun Stress

In my three years at college, I have never played the hallowed and much anticipated game of Assassins. Nor do I want to.

I have witnessed the paranoia that ensues every Spring in February. Right after chapel on the first day, everyone rushes out, water guns in hand, frantically looking for their target in the crowd. They have of course stalked them beforehand by looking them up in the campus directory.

Oh yes. This game is intense.

They even have a rule book. You can't squirt someone in the chapel, in class, at work, in their room, etc. You can only really squirt someone when they're in transition from one to the other. You can get them in the cafeteria however.

Last night I went to dinner with one of my friends who works in admissions - a poor innocent freshman who is new to the game, and is determined to stick it out to the end. She insisted that we go to dinner at 6:00 in order to avoid the crowd that comes at 5:00. We also sat at a booth on the outskirts of the Great Hall so that we weren't out in the open. Even while we were there, every 10 seconds she was looking behind her back to make sure that her assassin was not approaching with a water gun.

Nobody needs that kind of stress. You'll get an ulcer by the time you're 21.

One day before I graduate I want to run up to a random student while reaching into my pocket like I have a water gun, and belt out the best war-cry that I can think of... and then watch them scamper off. Hehe.

"Hey, You've Reached... Admissions"

The admissions office of the college seems to be a wealth of entertaining tidbits sometimes. Last night was no exception.

Voicemails:

I have discovered that high school seniors have some interesting ideas of what constitutes a good voicemail these days. Here are some of the gems from the evening.

• "Hey, this is _____, but I've gotta' go get ready for the zombie apocalypse, so I'll talk to you later." (Really? Okay, but I mean... you could go to college and get a good education so that you could learn how to intelligently fight off the zombies during the apocalypse. But no - rather, you're going to ignore your phone and make me listen to this ridiculous voice message every time).


• "You've reached _____. I'm not here right now, so if you're a thief, this would be a great time to break in. Just to make life easier on you, we keep all our money in a tin box underneath my bed. . ." (I can't make this stuff up).


• (This one went on for a good minute and a half. I'm including the selection that I remember). "Sorry I missed your call. I'm probably busy doing something else like reading, watching TV. . . doing homework, driving - and then I really shouldn't be answering my phone anyway. I'm a busy guy, you know? There are a lot of things in my life: my family, my friends, Christ. . . but thankfully they created answering machines, so you should take advantage of that and leave me a message." (I was kind of stunned when it finally ended and the beep came. I was sort of waiting for the guy to say "just kidding," and ask me who I was. But no. This was a legitimate message. People like this make me wonder if we should have fast forward buttons for messages).


• I do enjoy the "listen to this while your party is reached" ringer. This was a good plan, and probably invented by a telemarketer. Yesterday I enjoyed listening to "I'm Yours" while my prospective student was reached. Another was some classical music. Yet another was the song "Alcohol" by Brad Paisely, which always made me feel like I was somehow breaking contract by listening to it at work.

General Shennanigans:

If you ever hear us in the admissions office mention "So on a scale from Judas to Jesus...", this is what we mean: Apparently our boss created a ranking system from 1-5 that ranks your performance as a caller. Judas is a 1, and means that you're really bad at your job. The ranking goes like this: Judas - Peter after the denial - a local pastor - Mother Theresa - Jesus. You have officially made it as a caller when you're as good as Mother Theresa. However, no one can be a 5. It's not possible, and it might be blasphemy.