And I mean that in every sense of the word.
In a span of about three hours last Saturday morning I got my fill of boobs. From sophomoric freshmen (ha! ha!) trying to act cool and pick up chicks in the college registration line, to … well … boobs, I saw it all.
At our esteemed institution of higher learning we held an early registration event last Saturday for incoming freshmen and transfer students. This event is designed to cut down on the registration marathon that generally takes place two days before classes begin in the fall.
Students complain about the slow, arduous process and how awful it is that they are forced into these situations because obviously they would rather be at home watching reruns of SpongeBob Squarepants than out doing what it takes to ensure a brighter future.
I often explain to them how the registration process worked when I was a student at this same university more than a decade ago. Not that I would ever embellish, but by the time I show them the scars from self-inflicted paper cuts and explain that it was the only way to maintain a certain level of sanity as hoards of university personnel took turns brainwashing and browbeating us into submission, they don’t complain quite as much.
I work a station in the line where we register information about a student’s home town newspapers so we can send press releases home if they have any major accomplishments while in school. We also get them to sign a release saying it is Ok to use their likeness on university publications should the need arise. When we have the necessary information, we sign off on their registration packet and they are approved to move on down the line. All this information can be filled out ahead of time on a card they receive in their registration packets. Students generally like stopping at my station because it takes about 30 seconds and they can get rid of two stops at once because the parking permit people are never there. I basically tell them parking is not important and sign off for the parking personnel as well.
Now, I must tell you that it is hot in Texas in June and students tend to dress according to the weather. This means tanks tops, low cut, spaghetti straps, loose fitting blouses which is all well and good as long as you remain upright. A fact many a young, doe-eyed innocent fails to comprehend. Others are well aware of the fact and simply don’t care, but they usually don’t have their parents standing beside them in the registration line.
It’s always kind of a shock the first time this happens in the registration line. Sitting comfortably behind a table taking cards and information you are never quite prepared for what is about to happen. A young student fails to complete her form ahead of time, waiting to fill out the information when she reaches your spot in line. As said young lady starts to lean over right in front of you, you are suddenly hit with the bug-eyed realization of what is about to spill out across your field of vision.
Now what …
With eyes darting around the room, bouncing from object to object … to object … you try to find anything to grab your attention. After all, the young ladies’ parents are right behind her and you know if this was your daughter you would be glaring at the man behind the table, making sure he wasn’t trying to sneak a peek.
Feeling a little less than comfortable with the situation, you strike up an idle conversation with the next boob in line who just happens to be the aforementioned goofy boy trying so hard to fit in. It’s never a pretty sight.
Oh well, I just wonder what fashions will be like when my daughter is registering for her first semester in college.