One thing I learned early on is that gauging weather patterns on a college campus is impossible if you are using male attire as the metric. I’d forgotten, I’m sorry to say, that we fellas don’t need much clothing, even in the dead of darkest winter. Shorts, flip-flops, wrinkled t-shirts? It must be December. Jack Frost in town for a visit? No problem, put on that long-sleeve t-shirt under the short-sleeve t-shirt. A 19 year old guy is impervious and bullet-proof.
The girls are a different story. Bundled like eskimos, they grumpily endure the cold season, warding the winter’s chill with every weapon in their closet. But all it takes is a hint of pollen in the air, and the promise of an hour or so of air temperatures in the 70s, and like all of Nature’s great hibernants, they emerge suddenly to greedily embrace the warming rays of Sol.
It’s great to be on campus.
Agricola 