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Quartermania and Red Barn as Stressors on Campus
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            As Mr. L slowly came to his mind Monday morning, a slight headache welcomed him into the harsh reality of soberness. He considered himself lucky to be able to sit and then stand up without falling, tasks which seemed much harder to accomplish only a few hours earlier. The “walking straight” feature of his body was cherished at this point, knowing that he will encounter several respected members of faculty during his two class periods. Because of the experience gained from long years fighting the everlasting battle of dehydration, he considered himself a veteran of warfare involving massive amounts of Gatorade intake. All things considered, this Monday started out just like another average schoolday for L, except for the total lack of enthusiasm for anything else other than sleeping.

            The two classes still turned out to be beneficial, eventhough our hero could not devote all his attention to the subject matter, due to the increased workload demanded by his sleep-deprivated body. At certain points during the lecture he exercised body awareness practices to determine if he is still under the influence of alcohol, and his findings were rather surprising. The slight headache, the blank stare, and the vibrating visual cues clearly indicated that indeed, he was still drunk at 10 o’clock in the morning, learning about advanced aircraft systems! An outside observer could only note a slight grin on Mr. L’s face as he became aware of his altered state of consciousness. After two hours of public intoxication, L was back in his room again, enjoying the simple pleasures that only a bed and a TV set could provide. After one hour spent passively learning about interior decoration and patio lightings, he felt the call of his duty as an aircraft mechanic defeating the forces of exhaustion, boosting him off the bed and urging him to change into the inexpensive, yet trendy outfit of agricultural workers, mechanics, and truck drivers of the southern United States. The selection provided by the dining services was more than enough for L, considering the fact that he repeatedly visited the “Tex-Mex” bar to acquire the much needed nutrition demanded by the body of this hard-working southern male.

            His motto being “Safety first!”, he managed to “get his shit together” and engaged in repeated acts of aircraft maintenance, still keeping the “Airplanes fixed-Damage caused” ratio in good standing. At about three o’clock the active chemicals of the alcoholic beverages present in L’s body finally reached their half-life, an event which induced the recovery process which is commonly referred to as being hung-over. At this point, his longing for a rest reached its peak. The two hours went by relatively quickly. During his shift he endured the torture of loud noises, nauseating smells of industrial chemicals, and jokes filled with steaming sexual references from co-workers. All of which would be quite an entertaining experience for a shift spent in the camaraderie of mechanics under normal circumstances. At 4:20 as the first notes of the official “4:20 song” (“You don’t know how it feels” by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers) came on the air, he strongly considered committing suicide by running into a rotating propeller, and the only thing holding him back was the fact that his superiors would probably make him clean up the mess caused by human tissues splattering on the tidy hangar floor.

            After the fine dining experience provided by the dining services, it was time for L to claim his well-deserved sleep. Disregarding the strong body odor associated with a day in a maintenance hangar, he quickly arrived in the world of fantasy and absurdity, which seemed to be even more vivid than usual. The traces of alcohol still affecting his mental state and the TV stuck on the home improvement channel were contributing factors. Mr. L awoke as his roommate entered the small room and was happy to announce that he is physically and mentally able to be a fully active and efficient member of society. During the completion of a writing assignment due the next day, the spirits of our friend started picking up. It was 2:15 in the morning, and he was happy and satisfied recalling the events of the day and the night before, while his roommate entered REM sleep marked by his decreased breathing rate.

            It is clear to see that Mr. L became a victim of self-induced stress. After a brief investigation, it can be concluded that the relatively large amount of alcoholic beverages consumed directly caused Mr. L’s distress. During an interview, L explained the reasons why he chose to alter his consciousness with the complete disregard of the grim, yet predictable, consequences of such behavior.

            Contrary to popular belief, L did not get intoxicated just to induce the state of oxygen deprivation resulting in euphoria and decreased psychomotor skills providing a fertile ground for rather humorous situations. His actions served a greater good, as Mr. L and his good friend joined forces and swore to protect the public and, most importantly, America’s youth by engaging in the battle against the hegemony of breweries feeding from the naive souls of the citizens. As a completely selfless act, these two good Samaritans are determined to consume as much alcoholic beverages as possible just to make these products unavailable to unsuspecting youngsters looking for the thrill of binge drinking. Because of the poor funding of such extracurricular activities, the frequency of their sorties are greatly limited by financial factors, therefore, they are forced to seek opportunities where alcoholic beverages can be obtained for a relatively low monetary compensation.

            The undercover operation “Quartermania” went on as planned. Our heroes entered the bowling alley disguised as two college students wanting to exploit the opportunity of cheap bowling on this particular Sunday night. Equipped with bowling shoes and fitted balls, it was impossible for anyone to realize their true intentions. As the night went by, they repeatedly purchased pitchers of “beer” to deplete the reservoirs of this establishment to prevent others from suffering from the effects of this liquid. As the bowling alley closed down, our friends were still capable of serving the greater good, so they progressed to one of the town’s classier establishments where they suspected a considerable amount of “beer” existed. They quickly engaged in the mass destruction of the bottled beverage, and by the time the infamous “Last call for alcohol” battle cry was heard, our heroes smiled at each other, noting that again, they have delivered a major blow towards the evil alcohol industry.

            Eventhough, the two boys were physically exhausted and mentally unable to make sound decisions, yet they had no regrets. They realized the importance of the past few hours, and they were satisfied knowing that their cause is a worthy one indeed. Their deeds will be forever needed and appreciated. Their mission statement formulated by Mr. L, sends a clear message: “Saving America’s youth, one beer at a time.”