Thanks, Paul Porter

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When I was in college, I was a peer health educator. What does a peer health educator do, you ask? I could give you the PC answer that we were required to provide when asked, or I could give you the real scoop: I put condoms on dildos in front of large groups of college students for money. The program itself began when I was a junior, and I was an inaugural member (or OG, if you will). This job was amazing for so many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that I was paid to give presentations that included the phrase “Over-the-Pants Hand Job.” The best, by far, was the one I did for the basketball team. We went to the Elite Eight that year for the first time since 1974. Not to imply that correlation equals causation or anything, but I’d say knowledge of proper dental dam usage couldn’t have HURT their basketball skills.

Anyway, when November rolled around, some of us had the opportunity to attend a conference in Atlanta. I’m not sure what I expected, but the following events didn’t even register on my radar as POSSIBLE, let alone likely.

A few things about this conference before I begin the real story:

1) Most Peer Health Educators Are Pod People

Have you ever been in a room full of RAs? You know how they are weirdly close and get excited about the stupidest stuff? Or they talk about inside jokes that you don’t get/probably wouldn’t think were funny even if you had been there? And the most disconcerting thing is that a fair amount of them are actually fucking each other? And then you think how maybe if you just joined their club, you’d let the group-think mentality (or, more likely, the worms that live in their brains like in Animorphs) over take you and you’d actually be getting laid? Then you kind of want to kill yourself? Ok that was a little irrelevant (and also completely hypothetical). The point is, if you sat around with the people at this conference for more than 5 minutes, you’d automatically feel like the coolest person in the room while being simultaneously isolated by said coolness. Like, really, what the hell are you so excited about?

2) Peer Health Educators LOVE Icebreakers

And hugging strangers. Oh god, the hugging. I’ll never feel clean again.

3) You Will Learn Things About People You Never Wanted to Know. Ever.

“Hi, nice to meet you. Yeah, I’m a Psych major. Oh, you got gonorrhea once? IN YOUR THROAT?! Wow…um…way to bounce back IG2GTTYLKTHNXBYE!!!!!”

0 to awkward in less than two sentences.

I learned all of these things over the course of my weekend, but the real story begins at the opening ceremony.

The keynote speaker was the guy who created the “Evolution of Dance” video on YouTube, Judson Laipply, who happens to be a former peer health educator. He touts himself as a “Stand-Up Comedian/ Motivational Speaker.” This combination is as stupid as it sounds. Well, maybe I’m being unfair. I checked out pretty early and spent the majority of his routine thinking about candy, so he may have said something funny during that time. At the end of his speech, he announced there would be an interest meeting for the Student Advisory Committee, a group of student representatives elected from each of 12 areas of the country. I thought it’d be cool to get a free trip to Denver, so I went to this meeting. The current SAC stood in front and introduced themselves (“Hi, I’m Kelly! I’m from Area 2! WHO HERE IS FROM AREA 2? WOOOOOOO”). People raised their hands as their area was called and also cheered because they are freaks. When we got to Area 11, I was the only one who raised my hand. I started to get really excited. I had this election in the bag! I was running unopposed and all I had to do was make a 2-minute speech and answer a couple of questions? Why don’t you just ask me the BREATHE?!

At the end of the meeting, we broke off with our area representative to talk a little more about the position. As Brandon and I discussed this unnecessary process I was going to go through the next day, I heard a voice from behind me that I will never forget. It will stay with me until the day I die. It said: “Area 11?” I couldn’t hide my annoyance as it spoke; having thought that I would have no competition and now my free trip to Denver might be ruined. I slowly turned to see the owner of the voice (/my only opponent) and had to suppress an audible gasp…

HE WAS IN A WHEELCHAIR.

I hope Paul enjoyed his free trip to Denver.

-Lady of Leisure

P.S. We weren’t allowed to watch each others’ speeches, so we had to stand in the hallway. With his adviser. Who was blind. And had a seeing-eye dog.