Fenno

BY

Fenno fumbled down through the Hark. “These Happy Hours are great!” she thought as she shoved more fish-shaped crackers into her mouth. It had been a long 6 weeks and Fenno was looking forward to a fly-out weekend in sunny California. She’d decided on California over Florida for the week, sometime in between Hurricane Andrew and Hurricane Jeanne.

Just then Jenna Cobb and Jia Cobb walked by looking as cute as any other pair of Double Mint Twins. “Hi, Fenno, ” they chirped in sprightly unison. Fenno thought it was cool that people were already sporting their Halloween costumes. Fenno waved back with her fist full of fish, and took another gulp of what had to be the world’s cheapest beer. Fenno’s head began to spin. So she headed for one of Dean Kagan’s newest additions to the Hark, a velvety purple chair. At least when Fenno lost it this time, there wouldn’t be a visible stain on the chair as a record of the event.

Just then, Fenno saw Josh Mahan and Ron DeSantis stroll by. It was 5 pm on a Thursday, so of course they had both been wasted for hours. “Hellooooo, Fenno,” Josh said casually in his deep Kentucky accent, sounding a little like a Southern Winnie-the-Pooh. Normally, Josh’s accent did something for Fenno, but today she could only grunt an acknowledgement and slowly push around the mush of cheese in her mouth. She was not too drunk to notice that they were dressed as Bert and Ernie. Fenno closed her eyes to steady herself.

Suddenly, Fenno heard the familiar sound of Scott Joplin’s “Entertainer” coming from the Hark piano. She opened her eyes just enough to see Tracy Dodds dressed as a flapper and dancing on the top of the piano while Byron McLain, dressed as Satan, sat tickling the ivories below. Fenno wasn’t sure whether or not she trusted that guy. He seemed to be a born politician, and the combination of the liquor and the costume only increased her fear that he was, in fact, the Anti-Christ. Fenno stood up ad swallowed hard, washing things down of course with even more of the funky smelling beer. Fenno had to get out of here. Fenno slowly began to climb the ramp to the second floor, but begrudgingly had to step aside as two women and a very content looking guy ambled toward her with their arms around one another. Fenno squinted as they neared, and recognized the woman on the far-left of the group to be Andrew Lindsay. “Geez,” Fenno thought, “he’s a better looking woman than I am!” Fenno’s eyes darted to the even prettier woman on the far right, only to find in dismay that it was Ommeed Sathe. Neither one seemed to have any trouble walking in the high heels that he was wearing, despite the obvious intoxication. Finally, Fenno’s eyes were drawn to the man in the middle. He had on a tuxedo and top hat, and definitely looked dapper, cozy, and smug. That’s when Fenno noticed that the “man” was actually Jennifer Laraia. “Hey, Fenno,” she said with a wink and a nod as they passed. Fenno had finally had enough for the night and promptly puked over the rail of the ramp into one of the many stupid plants the dean believed would make students forget that there were palm tress in Palo Alto. When it was all over, Fenno pleasantly thought, “This just means that there’s room for more,” and took another drink from the plastic cup that was still in her hand.

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