some practical advice

Over the course of my four years at Eastern, I had the pleasure of living with six wonderful ladies. One of those lovely ladies is Lisa, who I lived with our junior year and the summer between our junior and senior year. I invite you to read her story below:


"Matt and I had the pleasure of talking with some friends over dinner the other night. The conversation flowed as many conversations tend to - bouncing and branching from subject to subject. At one point the conversation turned towards the fateful idea of commuting from downtown Baltimore back to the suburbia of Owings Mills. This would not be such a fateful subject if the commute was not involving traveling on the subway at a late hour of the night.

This turn of the conversation led to my revelation of a story I have not spoken of for some time. The mere thought of my having verbalized it brings a chill to the back of my neck. A story so shadowed, so dark, that I beg for little children to be removed from the room prior your reading this.

So it is with great pride and joy that I introduce my story to the world of MySpace. A story about a girl. A good girl. A good girl who wearily made her way home after a rigorous day of schooling in downtown Baltimore. A story about a man. A bad man. We really don't know anything more about him...just that he's bad. A story about how a good girl created a weapon for a successful victory over the bad man. So, without delay, and in the interest of women's safety everywhere, I present to you...The Story of "The Ultimate Weapon."

It was a Monday evening. Dark. I was exhausted after a 12-hour day of classes. I stumbled in a tired stupor onto the train at Lexington Market, preparing myself for the 25-minute ride back to Owings Mills, where my car awaited me and I could complete my journey towards home. If only I had been more aware of my surroundings.

There are not many people using the train on a Monday evening at 10pm. But there was one on my train. A bad one. A bad one who had positioned himself even closer to me, despite the fact that nearly all seating in our car was up for the taking.

I cannot describe in words the manner in which he was positioning himself and looking at me, nor the manner in which I felt, but allow me to delve into some word association, using the first few words that come to mind when recalling this scene: vomit, panic, gross, revolting, stomach-churning, castration, George Bush in a pink tu-tu. (I'm not sure where that last one came from)

I assessed my situation. Only a few other people in the car...on the other end of the car. Unfortunately, they began to trickle out at other stops. Bad Man did not. It became apparent to me that he was staying with me unto the bitter end...the last stop of Owings Mills. I had no mace, no pepper spray. I do not recall having had a cell phone at this time. I had keys, but I never feel they are of any value in these kinds of situations.

Beginning to feel helpless, panicked and scared, I realized that I needed to somehow reverse my situation. I needed to make Bad Man so repulsed by my very sight so that he would not only want to distance himself, but never look my direction again. I had very little time as the last stop approached.

It was at this crucial moment that creation of The Ultimate Weapon began. I needed something so universally revolting...so disgusting that it transcended cultures and generations as a vile practice.

It was at this point that I began picking my nose. Not just ANY kind of picking, mind you, but as someone who was involved in a joyous celebration of their nose and its' contents. I picked. I dug. I looked at it. I inspected it. And yes, my friends, I ate it. And not only did I eat it, but I ate it with a smile on my face, as if it were the best tasting substance on the earth.

Let us just say that our friend was indeed disgusted by my actions. He became visibly uncomfortable, removing himself from close proximity to me. He stood by the door and was the first one out. He did not look my way again. Who could blame him?

So, my fellow females, when you are stuck in a compromising and potentially dangerous situation with a shady character, wip out The Ultimate Weapon! It's guaranteed to succeed! Your safety is worth it!

Oh, just when you thought TUW could not get any more fail-proof: our above-mentioned friends, upon hearing my story of survival, quickly suggested that "flicking" might be the next, necessary step to make The Ultimate Weapon even more effective. I must admit I have not had the opportunity to test this.

Let's hope I never do."

----

She cracks me up.