It’s 11:00 on a Friday night. At the party mecca known as Harvard University, where will you be spending your evening?
If you’re a typical Harvard undergrad, there are three options: room parties, final clubs, and house parties. The first two are generally exclusive, requiring either an invite or a horde of scantily-clad freshman girls to gain entrance. You can always get into option three—House parties—provided you pay a fee.
And who wouldn’t want to get down with a sweaty mass of questionable fellow students for the low price of 10 dollars? (Alcohol sometimes, but not always, included if you’re over 21). The crowd at House parties consists of two types of people: freshmen and the sketchy upperclassmen who want to hook up with freshmen. If you don’t fall into those two categories, save yourself the trek to the Quad and stay home.
Oh, and the glamorous locales of these ragers? Pathetic. “Currier Fishbowl.” “Pfoho Dining Hall.” That’s right: you can party at the site of your last all-night cram session for that killer Orgo midterm. Good times.
Plus, you get to dress up in costume for such inventive theme ideas as “the 80’s” and “the 90’s.” Of course, when the party inevitably dies at around midnight, you’ll be stuck wandering around the River in spandex tights and a side ponytail, but such is the price you must pay for a few hours of “fun.”
Instead of mingling with the class of 2012, why don’t you break through the Harvard bubble and check out that expansive, unexplored land rife with nightlife, the city of Boston. Apparently they have clubs and parties out there, and you won’t even have to go back to the same place the next morning for breakfast.
