It’s that time of the year. Friends are visiting. It’s too cold for parents to visit, you self-destruct if you don’t see anyone from your hometown in a month and you don’t have a Valentine, so might as well see the kids you used to loiter with.

When they arrive, you have to find a way to get them from the bus or train station. If you’re a real friend, you’ll drive or get your friend to pick them up. If you hate them, you’ll make them take a cab to campus. And if you hate them and yourself, you’ll take the Centro bus to and from campus.

When they arrive, they’re expecting a good time. They’ve come from their clearly inferior school to one of the top party schools. But they show up at 2 p.m. and it isn’t party time yet, and they’re hungry. When you ask them what they want they’ll never actually tell you. It’s always put back on you when they respond, “What does everyone at Syracuse eat?” What everyone at Syracuse eats is Ernie Dining or Calios drunk at 2 a.m., but unfortunately it’s 2 p.m. So off to Varsity Pizza, which is always a safe bet. You describe it as, “There’s just everything you could want.” But to be quite honest, it’s bar food without the bar.

After you take them for a slice of good Syracuse pizza, or mediocre everywhere else pizza, it’s time for a tour of the campus. It’s important to hit the highlights and give them all the facts you think you’ve heard at some point. You head to the promenade, tell them it cost 6 million dollars, and then proceed to explain how big of a deal it is. You stop in front of Hall of Languages and describe that it’s the most basic photo you can take, but you take a picture anyway. Next, you pass the Kissing Bench and explain why there’s a weird bench that looks like it’s from the 1880s still there. You never touch it out of fear of loneliness.

The biggest attraction, and a main stop on the tour, is the Quad. Here, you can point out Hendricks Chapel and a couple of buildings you can’t name but you definitely had a recitation in before making your way over to the Carrier Dome. You can look through the locked doors and see one-tenth of the field, and then blow their mind with a Dome stomp. Obviously, the first time, they won’t stomp too hard, but after you show them how, they’ll do it correctly and give a halfhearted “Wow, pretty cool.”

Your last destination is Schine Student Center. You show them the food court, and let them marvel in the fact that you can use SUper Food Money for Dunkin’ Donuts. You move on to the bookstore, where they can buy overpriced Syracuse items. You both pretend to browse for three minutes or so.

Later on at night it’s time to party. If you know of a friend or club throwing a party, you’ll head there. If not, you’ll get a group of your friends to head to a bar. The nightlife is what makes Syracuse the best school in the nation. You get inside and realize how crowded it is, especially if your friend doesn’t know anyone. The watered-down drinks do not help either.

But after trying your hardest to show off ‘Cuse, there’s a life-changing realization around the corner. Syracuse University isn’t the greatest place on earth. It’s pretty great, but it’s not the campus that makes this place incredible — it’s the people. The people we’re surrounded with are the greatest people on earth, and that’s what makes Syracuse the school it is.

Oh, and the street preacher. He makes this school what it is. Syracuse is nothing without being belittled by a Christian fanatic.

Josh Feinblatt is a sophomore television, radio and film major. He doesn’t invite friends to visit him, because he doesn’t have any. He can be reached on Twitter @joshfeinblatt, by email jfeinbla@syr.edu or giving campus tours to small groups of 0-1 people.

Published on February 19, 2017 at 8:43 pm