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Total GDI Move (Part I)

June 3, 2011

For purposes of full disclosure, I must say this: my high school’s initials were S.C.D.S., but they might as well have been W.A.S.P.

If I recall correctly, I had 69 people in my graduating class. (Go ahead, giggle at the 69. Done now? Kay.) I estimate that 70% of them became involved with the Greek Life scene in college, which kind of leaves me in the dust when they talk about fratastic things.

For instance, while at home over Christmas break, I heard a conversation about a “sorostitute slampiece shacking with her fratdaddy”. According to the foreign language translation skills I have acquired, I believe this refers to a situation where a girl hooks up with a guy who owns a lot of salmon-colored polos and brings a cooler everywhere he goes, and she returns home with at least one item of his clothing.

Googling “Carolina Cup” makes for a pretty solid introduction to frat life.

I know what you’re thinking: I’m totes just jeal because my school doesn’t have a real Greek life scene. My high school friends laugh heartily when I tell them that my school has two fraternities and a “frarority”, a co-ed srat/frat hybrid (they decided to put fun before gender segregation—freakin’ weirdos, amirite?).

Au contraire, I love my GDI status. GDI, or Geed, means “God Damn Independent” and is a derogatory term for a non-Greek life person. As in, “Only GDIs shop at Wal-mart!” or “This Geed in my sociology class won’t stop talking about Nickleback!” or “All Geeds love Aeropostale and drive PT Cruisers!”

Now, I don’t wear Ed Hardy, nor do I show off my barbed-wire body art. But I am fully GDI in one major, major way: I think those sunglass-rope-eyeglass-retainer-thingys, Croakies, look seriously stupid.

Croakies are the hallmark of the southern fraternity, much like Longchamps or Vera Bradley bags are for the southern sorority. I can’t speak for their northern counterparts because I am BBBB (an acronym I made up just now that means “Bible Belt Born and Bred”).

Croakies occasionally serve a purpose—if you’re, say, on a boat (cue T-Pain) and you don’t want your Costa Del Mars to fall off. Most often, however, frat goggles are unnecessary and unattractive.

I apologize if I just offended every single male friend I made in high school. But, while I’m at it, let me just keep on rolling: Croakies are fugly, and Costa Del Mars look like bug eyes. I don’t know who told you the metallic-aqua-lens look was attractive, but I’m here to set the record straight: BUG EYES, people. I know they go with your boat shoes, but. Still.


And honestly, do you need to wear your Croakies everywhere? Gameday is one thing…but in class? On cloudy days? In the rain? In a bar? At night? Really?, a website that would be effing hilarious if it didn’t make me so sad for humanity, had this to say about the issue: “You may have seen fratdaddies in bars or restaurants with their sunglasses sitting on their neck after the sun has gone down. We are not here to require, nor condemn, this fashion statement…it is perfectly acceptable to flip your sunglasses around and put them on your neck when the sun has gone down.”

Well, there you have it. The preeminent authority on shatting—oops, I mean fratting!—has spoken. It seems we may just have to deal with this abomination forever.

More hot and heavy GDI issues to come, but for now I gotta run. I’m about to ride my Razor scooter to the mall; I hear Old Navy’s having a sale on cargo pants!

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