Welcome, President Schapiro, to Northwestern University. I do hope you are getting along well. Have you gotten lost in Tech yet? Collided with a biker along Sheridan Road? Maybe you got excited about Catfish Fridays at Plex. It must be tough, being the big man on such a big campus. By no means should it be suggested that you lack all experience necessary to do your job properly, but let’s be honest — Northwestern is a little different from Williams. Consider this your first in a series of exams testing the sort of knowledge that probably wasn’t part of your official applications process. Best of luck.
1. It’s Friday night. Well, technically, it’s Saturday morning. 1:30 in the morning, and you are going for a late-night BK run. Once upon a time you would have settled for a few sandwiches off of the dollar menu. But you’re the president of Northwestern University now, and you can afford a treat — even though you gave some of that money for your party to A&O for that John Legend concert. What a swell guy.
You opt for the BK Quad Stacker. You jaywalk back across the street toward campus to pick up some papers from the administrative offices. Who’s going to stop you? You’re the president of Northwestern! You approach the steps by the clock tower and … hark! A drunken freshman girl is stumbling down the stairs! She too is going to BK! She told her friends she was just going to get a four-piece chicken tenders, but you can see it in her eyes – she’s going for an eight-piece, with a milkshake and a large fry. What do you do?
a. You let her stumble on. Traffic is light on Clark, and chances are she will make it to BK safely. Proceed to 4.
b. You offer her some of the Wild Turkey from your hip flask. It’s the sort of friendly gesture that you hope will endear you to your new student body. Proceed to 3.
c. You ask her if she needs help. She looks like she needs it. Proceed to 2.
a. DIVE! You will keep this girl from hurting herself even if it means shredding your matching tie and sweater combination on the concrete. Proceed to 7.
b. You think. And think a little more. Too late! There was no time for thinking! She fell! Proceed to 6.
c. You take out your phone and get it all on camera. The next day you post it on Youtube as “Smashed Girl Smashes Face.” Proceed to 5.
3. Listen. Making friends with students is important, but chances are Student Affairs isn’t going to be too pleased about this one. If you want to be friendly, offer her some water or a loaf of bread. Nothing says “friendship” like handing a couple stale slices of Pepperidge Farms Wheatberry to a drunk person. As you pass her the flask, a wandering building security guard catches you. In the words of everyone’s favorite fluffy-haired billionaire — “You’re fired.” The end.
4. Really, Morty? What a cop-out. Here at Northwestern, we aren’t limp-limbed intellectuals like those kids at Williams, we are proactive doers. You would have been better-off kicking her down the stairs. Not to mention there is no possibility for driving the plot forward if you don’t do anything! The end.
6. You’re a critical thinker. That’s to be appreciated. But sometimes there just isn’t time to be asking “How would Foucault view this situation?” or “Would my actions here be those of a Hobbes-ian or a Locke-ian?” Now the girl is bleeding, and you’re standing there, Quad Stacker in hand, looking the fool. How long is it going to take you to call the police? Because you really don’t have time to think through the power relationships between the police and citizens right now. The end.
7. Wow. Get you a hat and a whip, and you’d be a veritable Indiana Jones (and the Slovenly Music Performance Major, nice ring to it, eh?) She’s safely cradled in your arms, but now she’s lurching. You recognize the motion, it’s the same one your cat makes before he deposits a hairball on the kitchen floor. Think fast, Indy!
a. You are not getting puked on. You carefully set her head on the ground and tilt her body sideways, so she doesn’t choke on her tongue. Just like they taught you in CPR class. Then you get on your phone and call for help. Proceed to 8.
b. Stoic to the end, you can’t imagine the dual humiliation of this girl puking and resting on a concrete pillow. You brace yourself and try and envision the face of the guy at the dry-cleaners when you bring that outfit in. Proceed to 9.
8. You can’t be faulted for this one. Really, what good is it going to do anybody if you get puked on? Paramedics will be there soon, you’ll be deemed a hero, and you’ll get to finally enjoy that Quad Stacker. Totally free of Jungle Juice regurgitation. You pass. Congrats.
9. Martyr syndrome much? Good luck enjoying that Quad Stacker when you’re covered in what smells unnervingly like BK’s special sauce. There is a Fear Factor victory in your near future. The end.