Way back when I was in college over a decade ago, I encountered all of the usual clichés: the parties, the sluts, the all-nighters, the bad food, and the wallet-slaughtering textbook fees. But I’m not going to talk about those today; I’m going to discuss a peculiar sociological trap I fell prey to during my time in higher education. It’s something that infuriated me to no end at the time, but thankfully, I was able to overcome it.

During my freshman year, I was crammed into a tiny dormitory, just like many other college newcomers. Ah, good ol’ Burnap Hall, shown at the top of the map on the left. It was three to a room, with the first two floors for men, the third floor for women. (The hall’s “twin,” Crandall Hall, was much the same, except it had two floors of girls. The guys over there were quite happy.) Anyway, due to the cramped conditions, shared bathrooms and showers, and the fact that cable TV was only available in the lounge, everyone got to know everybody else in their building quite well. Even if we didn’t always hang out together, we’d always have someone to grab lunch with or borrow movies from; the previous social cliques from high school meant nothing. This camaraderie was an integral part of the college experience, if you ask me; easily on par with the required academics.

For those that survived their freshman year, upperclassmen living quarters were a considerable upgrade. All of the upperclassmen dorms were apartment-style suites, with their own bathrooms and showers, kitchenettes, living rooms, and single or double bedrooms. Many of us wanted to live in the same buildings, since it would make hanging out much easier. However, we understood that it was luck of the draw, quite literally; the housing department ran a lottery program called room draw, in order to ensure fairness in selecting rooms. Most of my friends ended up in the High Rise and Low Rise apartments (on the middle left edge of the map), or moved off campus around the same area…while I ended up in Noble Hall, down at the very bottom edge of campus. Noble was reputed to have the nicest rooms on campus, and as it turned out, I ended up in Room 209, the largest apartment available for men. (Room 208 across the hall was a bit larger, but it was a women’s apartment. Only the best for the ladies.)

Now, it may appear from the map that Noble Hall is quite a long walk from the other buildings, but it’s really not. You could easily walk from one end of campus to the other in fifteen minutes or less; you could get to the High Rise and Low Rise apartments in well under ten. So as you can see, we weren’t that far from one another. However, this didn’t stop a majority of my friends from completely writing me off. All I did was move to a dorm that was slightly further away…and almost all of them refused to visit me anymore, or even associate with me.

I should mention that throughout my college career, I did not drink or smoke. (I still don’t; go me!) This didn’t seem to bother any of my friends during my freshman year; it’s not like I was condemning them for their choices. Far from it; I just didn’t partake myself, simple as that. However, they made sure to use that as a bullshit talking point once sophomore year rolled around; since I didn’t drink or smoke, I was branded “no fun,” they falsely claimed I was “looking down” on those who did choose to indulge, and I was subsequently excommunicated from the group. This could’ve been psychologically devastating, but ironically, I had dealt with a similar situation a year prior.

Quick recap: during the fall of my freshman year, my girlfriend back home cheated on me with one of my best friends. During the rest of that fall and spring while I was away, the two of them manipulated rumors and information to make my friends back home think that I was the asshole in the situation, and thus everyone turned against me. In fact, it became apparent that none of them were my real friends to begin with; it was one big masquerade. I was left with maybe three or four friends at home, and the whole debacle sent cracks running through my admittedly fragile mental state. If it wasn’t for the support of my newfound friends at college, I very likely would’ve broken down completely.

The moral of the story is that I’d survived losing all of my friends once before; I could do it again. Interpersonal relationships in college were important, but dammit, I was there to work. Long story short, I made new friends. Many of them lived in Noble already, or ended up moving there. I survived, earned my degree, and went forth into the working world. I try to keep in touch with as many of my friends as possible, though it’s tough, especially when they move far away, get married, and have kids.

I can’t help but wonder if similar bullshit was experienced by any other college students. I mean, come on…ditching friendships based on walking distance, then making up excuses to cover it up? What a crock.