Our House in the Middle of Our Street.

Before summer started, we had to finish the school year which, for me, meant drinking more.

Bonnie and I had joined the same sorority. She was very much anti-establishment, and she didn’t want to join, but I told her that she had to join because our sorority – Alpha Chi – did the most drinking.

I have no idea if this was true.

Many Greeks drink a lot. Still, when it came time for sorority events, we liked to include as much alcohol as possible. This was one of the great things about Alpha Chi.

Bonnie became my sorority Little Sister – a convenience of her being younger than me. We did all the Big Sis/Little Sis activities in line with tradition. We got pins and paddles and shirts and sweats. I loved feeling part of a group of girls, this group of girls, and having Bonnie by my side made that even more wonderful.

I remember strategizing for the Greek Sing event – a competition that required all of the fraternities and sororities to perform on stage. (Click here to see a fine example of Greek Sing from 2015.)

Our strategy: let’s be the drunkest. Rather than trying to win the competition, we wanted to be so wasted, we’d guarantee ourselves last place.

Our performance starred an “on-the-street reporter” asking questions of sorority sisters, who answered the reporter by singing something. For my part, I sang the line “our house in the middle of our street” – my own funny one-hit wonder experience.

After singing that one line, I understood why we’d chosen to be drunk. Getting the appropriate laughter was awesome but singing on stage was terrifying. Being drunk together, as a team, made it bearable.

When the judges announced last place – the losers – they called out “Alpha Chi Omega.”

We jumped and hooted and screeched and hollered like we’d won the Powerball. I remember the other sororities trying to calm us: “No, no, you didn’t win…” as if trying to explain to a small child that their pet had just died. We yelled and jumped around just the same, confusing everyone but ourselves. We’d reached our goal!

One night, at a sorority-fraternity bash, I got drunk and punched a guy named Tom right in the face. I don’t have any idea why I did it, or what angered me so greatly that I felt the need to lash out physically. Apparently I had no rational adult way to handle my internal rage, so I punched Tom.

Back in 7th grade, I also punched a guy named Donald and knocked out a filling. Donald had just come from the dentist. He wouldn’t stop talking to me, so I clobbered him.

Like Donald, Tom probably did nothing at all. Thirty years later I messaged him an apology on Facebook but I’ve no idea if he ever received it. I have no recollection of the actual incident; I was obliterated.

What I remember, though, is the emergency meeting called for me to meet with my sorority board. I didn’t even know the sorority had a board. My sorority sisters (“the board”) suddenly looked solemn and professional. No one laughed.

I sat and listened as they announced that because I’d punched someone during a sorority event, I would be deactivated. I didn’t know what “deactivated” meant either.

My drunken behavior had gotten me thrown out of my own sorority.

“Fuck them!” Bonnie said. “If you’re out, then I’m out, too!”

She quit on the spot, and neither of us attended an Alpha Chi Omega meeting or event ever again.

But I still have my pin.

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