Picture this:
Two girls drunkenly screaming at each other about something completely non-football related; a couple guys shattering bottles on the ground in anger because they lost a game of beer pong; another guy wearing a “Buck Fama” shirt throwing up behind a tree; cars honking at each other; tailgaters leaving trash wherever they please; and the stench of alcohol wafting through the air from the breath of people stumbling around the streets.
Aren’t gamedays beautiful?
But for some us, Saturdays aren’t about football. This might come as a complete surprise to some people, but not everybody can stop their lives for a football game.
Even on the weekends, I have responsibilities that can’t be avoided — work being one of them.
For anyone who has a job on or around campus, we know that home gamedays are definitely not something to look forward to.
On a normal day, getting from home to work takes about 10 minutes. I had work at 6 p.m. on Saturday (an hour before the game started), so I planned ahead and left my apartment at 2:45 p.m. I figured I’d get there early and do some homework.
That didn’t happen, though.
I spent an hour in slow-moving traffic on River Road. When I tried to turn on Aster Street, it was blocked off just before campus.
I made a detour through an unfamiliar neighborhood, and when I finally reached Highland Road, turning right was blocked off, and I was met by a couple of officers angrily telling me to move forward.
I wanted to roll down my window to say I work on Chimes Street or at least ask for directions.
Before I could even start the policeman yelled at the top of his lungs: “GO!” The other policeman was blowing his whistle and pointing so violently that I swear his arm was about to rip off his body.
I could’ve stuck my head out of my car and yelled, “I’m pregnant and in labor,” and they still wouldn’t have given me a shred of their attention or respect.
Not unless I had something important to say about football.
The whole situation was entirely infantile. I understand that you have a whistle, officer, but could you maybe stop blowing it for five damn seconds? He was acting like a child on Christmas morning who just opened his new present. “Look, ma! Look how loudly I can blow my whistle!”
We get it. You have a whistle, and because you’re a police officer, you can do whatever you want. You don’t care about the people in their cars who are trying to get to work because it doesn’t concern you.
But it’s truly disappointing that the very same people who supposedly devote their lives to keeping Baton Rouge safe care so little about actually helping us out.
I ended up parking at the Jimmy John’s on Perkins Road and riding my bike to campus without any idea of how I would get back to my car safely later that night.
I was lucky I even had my bike with me.
The environment created by LSU’s home gamedays is chaotic and jeopardizes everyone’s safety.
It’s my campus too.
I may not go to football games or wear purple and gold on Saturdays, but I love my school and it’s a huge part of my life. But if I can’t even get to and from work safely, that’s a huge problem. My life doesn’t revolve around football, and I can’t stop everything to let drunken tailgaters have their fun.
Some people think LSU is all about football. But for those of us who don’t fit into the football culture ­— and those of us who have obligations on Saturdays — absolutely nothing good comes out of gamedays.
If anything, a little respect from others — especially police officers — would be appreciated. But if you’re not devoting your Saturday to football, it seems you won’t be receiving very much respect from the people who are.
Shirin Chowdhury is a 20-year-old English junior from Manhattan, Kansas. You can reach her on Twitter @TDR_schowd.