By Cutieboy90
Shawn was your typical all-American dumb frat boy. Muscular body, cute face, ripped jeans, and Abercrombie T shirts. He partied, drank, played around, and took everyone and everything around him for granted. Now, one would think that a guy who had flunked out of college twice already, and chose to try again a third time would have learned something from his mistakes, or at least cared on some subconscious level about his future.
Not Shawn. The first week of classes he acted like every other high school jock ready to get up to no good with their new adult life. He was rarely on time for classes, never studied, barely participated, except in anything athletic. We were both on the swim team, and though he could almost keep pace with me, he was never seriously considered for competition due to his lack of effort. Every night, he’d stumble into the dorm, drunk off his ass, shuffle around for a while, before passing out anywhere but on his cot. As a serious student with early morning lab classes, this was not an acceptable situation.
But I knew his kind, sitting down for a conversation mediated by the RA was not going to be any help. Logic and reason are lost on these guys. I would find another way.