In high school, convening my friends to hang out could be as difficult—and unheard of—as training a mule for the circus. After middle school, we attended different high schools, and only some of us drove cars in our spaced-out suburbs. Come college, all that changed. I met five of my friends during our pre-orientation program and another four days later in the form of one of our roommates. Since then, it has been us seven, even evolving from friends to roommates this year.
Living on the same campus as your friends is a game-changer. Hangouts become casual and impulsive, unplanned and unscripted and occurring when there is simply nothing better to do. Nothing requires the stress or calculation of gas or getting rides from someone else, and there is never a shortage of things to do at Hopkins, and certainly not in Baltimore. Unlike home, at college I never find myself wandering aimlessly with my friends in a Target, lapping the same shoppers with their full carts while they were puzzled by our empty hands.
Tier 1: Brain Rot on the Big Screen
In the taxonomy of college hangouts, let us begin with the easiest ones. Most accessible, lowest commitment, and least planning needed: television. Or, in lieu of a TV, a laptop will work just fine—bonus points for a mini portable projector, which works great on the canvas-like walls of the AMR dorm rooms.
The first movie my friends and I watched in college was “Legally Blonde,” all piled into one room with microwave popcorn and make-do seating. After that came a horror movie that not everyone knew was a horror movie—maybe don’t do that—and then the “Hunger Games” series, which I had never seen before. Watching a series with people you’re getting to know is a great litmus test for your friendship. After all, how one feels about Peeta—not to mention Gale—is a make-or-break factor. An important reminder: not all dorm screenings have to be esteemed television or cinema. Reality shows like “The Simple Life” and “Kim of Queens” have been my favorite watches of this year.
Tier 2: Hunting and Gathering
Everyone needs to eat. Sometimes, the sandwiches from Hopkins Café or the pasta bowls from Nolan’s lose their luster, especially for nights that call for celebration: birthdays, final days of the semester, the list goes on. Moving one rung up the taxonomy comes eating out. It’s true that there may be greater initial energy required to spur things into action, such as picking a place to eat, reviewing the menu, and arranging transportation via Blue Jay Shuttle or Lyft or by foot. But I believe the pros outweigh the cons. After all, the novelty of placing your friendship in a new context can inspire fresh, rewarding conversation. Nearby Hampden promises great Thai from places like Bodhi Corner or Mona’s Super Noodle, while Little Italy in the Inner Harbor is a safe bet for all things Italian. Even more manageable are the restaurants on St. Paul Street, which is campus and perfect for meals like breakfast at THB after class registration and Honeygrow for quick midday stops.
Tier 3: Grand Plans Escaping the Group Chat
At the top of our taxonomy are the plans that don’t always make it out of the group chat, making them all the more special when they do. These are your once per month or maybe only once per semester—even year, or college career—types of plans. They’re also the most memorable, so be sure someone brings a digi. For my friend group, this first looked like going to a pumpkin patch in Towson our first fall together, riding tin-metal slides on burlap sacks and tractor-dragged hayrides with children. After that, it was Skyzone, also in Towson, also aimed at a much younger audience. Nevertheless, we bunny-hopped from square to trampoline square, played King of the Hill across a foam pit, and earned our bruises and scrapes the morning after like badges of courage.
As a reward for reaching the end of the taxonomy of Hopkins student hangouts, I have one final piece of advice for you: always be aware of discounts. Twice now, my friends and I have gone to the National Aquarium on a Friday for half-off tickets, and many Wednesdays we have walked from campus to Warehouse Cinema in the Rotunda, flashing our student IDs for $8 tickets, even to new movies.
Is This Play About Us?
Regardless of the activities and side quests you and your found family at Hopkins choose to endeavor, remember that anything can be made magical. That makes it sound like I’m stepping out of a cheesy, feel-good movie, but maybe that isn’t such a bad thing. Don’t the protagonists of those movies, as the name suggests, invariably end up feeling good? Perhaps what I’ve been calling a taxonomy is more a traditional three-act story structure in one meta Hallmark movie: beginning, middle, and end, but instead of a “falling action,” everything just keeps going up. Whatever you want to call it, the outcome is a college career well spent. If Hallmark can do it, then Hopkins students certainly can.
