It’s a month into the semester and you haven’t committed aggravated assault on someone in the deli who looks vaguely like your professor. Well done.
Though for your own well-being and that of the deli community, I’m here to send a message. There is no need to white knuckle it.
There is a place on campus where you can vent all your frustrations in a healthy, fun and semi-violent manner. This place is called the racquetball court.
Now I know what you’re thinking, “Grant, are you actually recommending going out into the world? Doing things that are active and exciting? You of all people?”
Well, no one asked for your goddamn synopsis Dave, so shove it.
Anywhoozle, the racquetball court is a magical place. You can go into the game calm and collected, but racquetball is by nature chaotic and fast paced. Controlled hits are optional at best.
Light swings are optional at best. The name of the game is to destroy that ball. Vent that violence that builds up in all of us, because you’ve already paid for the Wellness Center. Court fees add up.
I haven’t even reached the best part though: the acoustics.
Being in a loud box may seem annoying at first, but it encourages shouting, and shouting leads to yelling, and yelling at your friends can be beautiful.
You can be having the best time in the world, but being able to shout every curse word in the book at someone, in a playful manner, will get out all those bad vibes. It’s like an angrier version of the ’70s.
Disclaimer on the yelling, I can’t actually guarantee how soundproof the courts are.
They seem pretty solid, but I haven’t exactly run a test. I prefer to treat it like hitting a bump when you drive at night. Just don’t think about it, but maybe get out of there a little faster.
So next time you’re preparing to check your quarterback skills by chucking a jar of tomato sauce at a man’s head from 20 yards, remember there’s another way. A place where you can hit things like a gorilla, roar like a lion and steam like tea pot. A real method of venting. Unless all the courts are filled.
Then, I don’t know, I guess there’s basketball or drugs. Or both. Whatever boats your float.