Drinky-Drink: Concentrations



Advising Fortnight, now winding its way to a close, is that brief and wondrous period when concentrations vie for the attention of College students, before reverting to a holding pattern of vague disinterest.



Advising Fortnight, now winding its way to a close, is that brief and wondrous period when concentrations vie for the attention of College students, before reverting to a holding pattern of vague disinterest. If only, if only these concentrations would learn to give up on bribing freshmen with brownie bites and just give the people what they want: a stiff drink. Since said freshmen cannot legally enjoy the pleasures of alcohol-fueled escape, FM is here to suggest several timely cocktails for particularly empathetic upperclassmen.

Economics: The Trickle Down

Add a splash of single-malt Scotch (preferably Glenfiddich 18 or similar) to a pitcher filled with ice. Watch and wait as the ice melts, diluting the Scotch until it can pass for water from the Charles.

Visual and Environmental Studies: The Vicinity of Culture

Place can of PBR in direct sunlight. Wait till warm. Carry it to the Mac Quad. With a stony face, pour over body. Crush can beneath heel and walk away.

History and Literature: The Poet Cemetery

Ask the local vintner to recommend a drink to match the literary luminary you’re feeling most at the moment. If it’s Charles Baudelaire, try something French and full-bodied, with notes of rotting fruit; if it’s Roberto Bolaño, try mezcal, tequila’s lesser-known cousin that’ll drop you breathless and half-naked along the road to Tijuana.

Slavic Languages and Literatures: The Little Water

One shot vodka, neat. Toast, rinse, repeat.

Neurobiology: The Synaptic Gap

Pause briefly from memorizing flashcards to pour Rubinoff into orange juice salvaged from the dining hall. Drink a little too much. Ride a party bus into Boston. Find your way to a beer-soaked room in the Quad. Forget it all—until the panic of morning comes, that is.

Latin American Studies: The Abyss

Maybe you should’ve gone to Yale—at least they have La Casa Cultural.