Harvard Yard

An Asian father walks with his infant son
in Harvard Yard’s common ground,
just old enough to walk, he is introduced
to Harvard many years before admission.

The tall father’s arm hangs low to the son’s raised hand.
Slowly they walk among the birds, and the grass,
and the various languages around them.

I wonder what he told him then,
simply wise enough for a child to understand.

“Patience, my son, and soon you’ll know why we’re so tall.”

About Last Night

I spent a good amount of time looking back over things trying to think if there’s something else to add. I have no choice but to stop and just laugh. It’s probably best to take this for what it is…


This story takes place two weeks before I graduated from the college. What should have been a typical college night turned into one of the more ridiculous moments of my life.

My Friday night began at a friend’s apartment. I was meeting a friend named Sarah, someone I hadn’t seen in a while, so it seemed like a good night to reconnect. We had a few shots of something that tasted like a car battery. It was cheap and simple.  Small talk turns into entertaining tales of friends, family, and college.

One conversation came up about Sarah’s friend, Mandy.  Mandy was a nice girl I met a few times. I didn’t think much of her, but she just broke up with her boyfriend of five years after finding out he was cheating on her. Sarah went on about Mandy’s new single life. Apparently she was racking up big numbers, but I didn’t think much of it and kept drinking.

Sarah suggested we go to her friend’s place down the street to meet four other girls, floor-mates from college. We get to their place and Mandy’s there. A few minutes later, several shots are taken by all six of us. We talk and gauge interest in each other’s lives before going out to a bar.

To keep a record of the night I should mention I don’t remember hanging out with any of the girls besides Sarah or Mandy.

At a bar named Kate’s, I remember taking drink after drink with Sarah and Mandy. Sarah’s boyfriend shows up. Mandy tells me her sad breakup story, and that was harsh on the buzz.  I remember being rather drunk and doing my absolute best to listen to her.

My guy friends call me at this point and ask me to go to a different bar, Homegrown, which was right next door.  The thought of finding a way out of this bar seemed like a very good idea.

I finish my drink and start to leave. Mandy insists I take her phone number.  This is usually my cue to say something stupid to a girl or botch the situation completely, but I played it smooth and I called her right there so she could have my number too.

Little did I know that I would have no intention of calling her after this night, ever again.

Homegrown is a bit more relaxed than Kate’s, and it’s a better place to have a conversation, if you ask me. The beer is overpriced, but at least I could breathe in there.  I found my friends; seven guys and six girls, and all the usual connections between the groups. A bunch of them were going out, lived together, or had just become great friends over the years.

I take down a few more beers, which at this point was completely unnecessary.  Mandy texted me three times since I left Kate’s, asking me where I am going and what I plan on doing that night.  I told her how I was having a few more drinks with my buddies and then going home.  Before I knew it, I would be walking Mandy’s friend home (with Mandy, of course).

I remember two of my close girl friends interrogating me before I left. They knew me too well and were surprised when I told them my plans later.  I told them they were being silly, or probably said something that wasn’t a coherent English sentence.

My friend Jenna asked me why I would ever want to hook up with some girl I knew so little about. I found this argument absolutely useless and lacking of all rational thought. My other friend Kelly was better about it, and told me to go have a good time.  That sounded better to me.  I finished my beer and went back to Kate’s to get Mandy and her friend.

The walk to Mandy’s friend’s place was the foggiest part of the night.  With my arm around Mandy, I seem to remember her laughing at everything I said. We take her friend home and walk another ten minutes to my place.

I gave Mandy a quick two-second tour of my empty bedroom and before I knew it, we were making out on my twin-sized air-mattress.  It was extremely underwhelming. I am not really sure about having your face licked; it didn’t really work out for me. I didn’t question anything, and eventually just went to sleep.

Hoorah! A random hook up and a pleasant night… or it should have been…

6:14 AM – Mandy wakes up and goes to the bathroom, I think… I remember looking at the clock shortly before closing my eyes again, but only a minute. I’m not really sure what it was, but a large thud woke me up… needless to say I live with four guys, and thudding noises aren’t uncommon. Still, I hear a shrill scream coming from the hallway to the bathroom. Realizing something’s wrong, I jump out of bed and find Mandy on the floor, topless. I laugh internally, but the hilarity ends when I see Mandy bleeding from her eyes.  I am extremely shocked; she keeps yelling that her head hurts, I try to ask her what happened, but she’s still too drunk to make sense.

My roommate, Dave, and his girlfriend were asleep until Mandy woke them up. Dave knocks on the door, I told him not to open it. I try and help Mandy up in vain; she has no shirt on, no underwear on, but for whatever reason a miniskirt on (why the skirt over nothing, ladies?). I continue to help, but with one major oversight.  Mandy, not wearing any underwear, had “ooopt” herself something terrible.

“Why are my boxers drenched?” My question was answered too quickly by discolored stains. I instantly ripped off my boxers and threw them out my bedroom window towards the dumpster outside.  I got dressed before Mandy walks in with the blood washed off her face. I am freaked out not knowing what happened to her, and had no idea if she knew about my boxers.

She said she hit her head on the toilet and that she should go home.  I am in shock by what just took place and told her that’s probably a good idea. She tries calling three friends to pick her up, but at 6:30 AM on a Saturday, people are sleeping.  It hits me; I have to walk her home.

The walk home was a bit much. Mandy had regained some composure and was making full sentences again.  She asked me what my plans were, which now included bleaching myself and buying new clothes.  She asked me if I wanted to see her again and I remember not answering.  I can just think of the “how you first met” story… no thanks.  I went home to find Dave waiting by my room to ask me what happened.  By this point the boxers were on top of the trash.  I told him to look outside my window for answers.  As if I wanted any proof of what went down last night.