I am similar to some fellow students in that, HECK YEAH, I like going out and having a good time. One tequila, two tequlia, three teuwquila, WOOHOO. NOTE: I do try to practice safe consumption habits and often succeed.
But I am NOT like most students (or people in general) because, MMM BOY, I love to run. Over the hill and through the woods, to IDFK where? IDGAF, let’s just run. I love it so much, it’s in my Instagram handle.
I have a habit of mixing these two activities. I go for a run before I go out because I need to earn it. I’ve gotta sweat it up before I consume all that alcohol or it doesn’t count. But I also have some sort of primal instinct that results in me running home after I’ve drank. I’ll be having THE TIME OF MY LIFE when instantaneously feeling like I MUST VACATE THE PREMISES IMMEDIATELY. No more dancing. No more socializing. ONLY RUNNING. My resolve is that no bus, Uber, or friend’s car could get me home as fast as my legs can.
One night, I remember running through Windsor Park, a neighbourhood to the west of campus.
An aside: yes, I must admit, I spent THREE YEARS living in LISTER CENTRE. LOL. I’m sorry, it was wild and I’m glad I’m out and I hope everyone is allowed to have a positive and safe experience there.
Anyways, one night I found myself, as some Listerites often do, at Dukes. I was mingling (making piecemeal conversations with fellow Listerites at a volume that I’m sure caused permanent hearing damage). I was enjoying the fine drink and fare (drinking AGD out of a teamer and eating some abandoned basket of fries).
And then that night, it hit me like a dodgeball. That ancestral feeling compelled me to move my legs FAST in a STRAIGHT LINE.
I ran out of Dukes.
I ran down the dimly lit streets of Windsor Park.
I jogged through shady alleys.
I took a breather (drunkenly rolling around in a park) midway on my circuitous route home.
All this breathing and rolling halted when I heard some noise coming from a bush nearby. I was gripped with fear, staring into a dark mass that held unimaginable horrors. It was game over for Steve.
I did the only thing I thought would ensure my survival. I took out my phone and tweeted “waht is thta rustjilng?? in the busshs.” Moments later, a rabbit hopped out of the bush and ran into the night.
And so did I.