‘Pamela? As in Anderson?’

Introducing yourself to college freshmen at an informal cocktail party is something I always tend to avoid as much as possible. Not because I’m very shy, but because I’d rather not hear comments about my name, especially not when they’re made by tipsy students.

A few months ago, when I was hanging around with some friends at our student association biweekly cocktail party, two boys approached us. A quick thought was running through my head: ‘Shall I introduce myself as Pam?’

‘Hey, are you guys playing a drinking game? Can we join?’ Obviously, it was all about the booze. How typical.

While I was still slowly sipping my soft drink, the boys took place on the couch opposite of me. I hoped they’d go straight for the beer and forget the whole ‘hey-let-us-introduce-ourselves’-part, but they stood up again to formally introduce themselves.

They started shaking hands with us and when they got to me and asked for my name, I blurted out: ‘Pamela’

Oops.

I only started to regret not shortening it to Pam when a cheeky smile formed on one of the boys’ lips.

‘Ah, Pamela Anderson.’ That was the only thing he said.

Boys will be boys, I guess, but if I had a penny every time they’d  say something like this, I’d probably be able to re-film all 243 Baywatch episodes in high-definition with new actors. Who knows, it might become such a big hit that everyone will forget that Pammy ever played a part in it. Maybe then I’ll finally be able to introduce myself without boys acknowledging her.

For the time being: Yes, It’s Pamela, as in Anderson.

Tipsy students

One advantage of not really liking alcohol is being able to observe tipsy students. To be quite honest, these students belong to a demographic I’d like to avoid, but every now and then I make an exception.

A while ago, my friends asked (read: slightly forced) me to go to an informal drinks night our student association hosted. The wine, which smelled like vinegar, was served in those typical free paper cups. Very student-like, right?

‘I’d take a Fanta.’

One thing led to another and after 30 minutes I was playing along in some weird drinking game with seven slightly intimidating students.

‘Pamela, I give you five sips.’ A boy looked at my cup, waiting for me to take a sip. I brought the cup to my lips and drank. They all knew I didn’t drink, but I was wondering if they hadn’t forgotten it already.

Two hours later, I decided it was time for me to cycle home again, but just as I was preparing to leave, the ‘five sips boy’ stopped me and said: ‘How can you tolerate alcohol so well?’ A smile started to form on my lips as I gave him my cup, which contained a remainder of my fizzy drink. All he did was laugh, not being able to fully comprehend it all.

Sometimes, watching tipsy students can be fun, especially when you’re the one who’s sober.