Yeah I’m That Token Sewer Rate in Delta Gamma, But I Can Still Kick It With My Girls

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By Jennifer Kim

Yeah, I’m that token sewer rat in Delta Gamma, but it’s not the only part of my identity.

I got into DG the old school way. By climbing up from the depths of hell and navigating my way into the Chapter House through the sewer pipes. No legacy and no favors. DG chose me as much as I chose them because they could see that I would be an invaluable addition to the chapter. And also because my rabies kicked in and I “held the president hostage for ten days and threatened to bite her” or whatever.

But don’t mistake me. Just because I’m a flea-ridden walking nightmare, does not mean I’m a buzzkill. I am the life of the fucking party. I show up to every single mixer and no matter what the theme is, I show up as myself: naked and shaking. Because that’s how comfortable I am in my own skin. I am the first one to every party and the last/drunkest/thirstiest (for blood) one to leave. You can find me with my girls, ripping shots of tequila (for them) and Tom Cat Rodenticide (for me), which I have built up an immunity to through tolerance training. I am a party animal. I am an animal.

And just because I can’t physically bend my rat hand into the designated 90-degree angle DG salute, doesn’t mean that I’m not a real member of the sorority. I am incredibly involved in all aspects of the sisterhood, especially our annual charity event. At last year’s Clean Water for All fundraiser, I played a major role in our skit as “the rat whose feces contaminates the drinking water.” Did I maybe cross a line in applying the method acting technique and using my actual feces for the skit? Maybe. Everyone’s a judge. But in my rat eyes, I like to think of it as a testament to my commitment to the cause and to the sisterhood. And also let me remind you only three people vomited and that lawsuit was an empty threat.

I am invested in the future of our group and that is why I have personally, against the wishes of many of our members, taken it upon myself to be pledge master to the incoming freshmen classes. So when I lead them all to the Chapter basement, which I’ve filled with noxious fumes, and scurry around underneath the floorboards to invoke the sensation that people get when they watch Jaws, and then finally after hours of this agonizingly drawn-out preamble when I appear cloaked and red-eyed, laughing hysterically and raising my paws into the air as if I am Hades himself, just know that I am doing it all in the name of sisterly love. Sure everyone’s traumatized afterward, but guess what? They’re also bonded as hell.

Listen. Of course, sometimes it’s frustrating when I can’t partake in important social rituals such as getting ready for formal, wearing a human dress, finding a human date, or appearing as human. And I will admit, it on occasion hurts my feelings a little bit that my sisters scream and start itching their faces every time I enter the room. But those are all insignificant sacrifices I make to be a part of the greatest and most exclusive group on campus. I am a sister of DG, same as all the other gals here. This is my family. My home. And, most importantly, the chosen host body that I’ve parasitically latched onto for my own survival.

Ah, I’m that token sewer rat in Delta Gamma, but it’s not the only part of my identity.

I got into DG the old school way. By climbing up from the depths of hell and navigating my way into the Chapter House through the sewer pipes. No legacy and no favors. DG chose me as much as I chose them, because they could see that I would be an invaluable addition to the chapter. And also because my rabies kicked in and I “held the president hostage for ten days and threatened to bite her” or whatever. 

But don’t mistake me. Just because I’m a flea ridden walking nightmare, does not mean I’m a buzzkill. I am the life of the fucking party. I show up to every single mixer and no matter what the theme is, I show up as myself: naked and shaking. Because that’s how comfortable I am in my own skin. I am the first one to every party and the last/drunkest/thirstiest (for blood) one to leave. You can find me with my girls, ripping shots of tequila (for them) and Tom Cat Rodenticide (for me), which I have built up an immunity to through tolerance training. I am a party animal. I am an animal. 

And just because I can’t physically bend my rat hand into the designated 90 degree angle DG salute, doesn’t mean that I’m not a real member of the sorority. I am incredibly involved in all aspects of the sisterhood, especially our annual charity event. At last year’s Clean Water for All fundraiser, I played a major role in our skit as “the rat whose feces contaminates the drinking water.” Did I maybe cross a line in applying the method acting technique and using my actual feces for the skit? Maybe. Everyone’s a judge. But in my rat eyes, I like to think of it as a testament to my commitment to the cause and to the sisterhood. And also let me remind you only three people vomited and that lawsuit was an empty threat.

I am invested in the future of our group and that is why I have personally, against the wishes of many of our members, taken it upon myself to be pledge master to the incoming freshmen classes. So when I lead them all to the Chapter basement, which I’ve filled with noxious fumes, and scurry around underneath the floorboards to invoke the sensation that people get when they watch Jaws, and then finally after hours of this agonizingly drawn out preamble when I appear cloaked and red eyed, laughing hysterically and raising my paws into the air as if I am Hades himself, just know that I am doing it all in the name of sisterly love. Sure everyone’s traumatized afterward, but guess what? They’re also bonded as hell. 

Listen. Of course, sometimes it’s frustrating when I can’t partake in important social rituals such as getting ready for formal, wearing a human dress, finding a human date, or appearing as human. And I will admit, it on occasion hurts my feelings a little bit that my sisters scream and start itching their faces every time I enter the room. But those are all insignificant sacrifices I make to be a part of the greatest and most exclusive group on campus. I am a sister of DG, same as all the other gals here. This is my family. My home. And, most importantly, the chosen host body that I’ve parasitically latched onto for my own survival. 

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