I'm sorry I swore at you from the attic of a Christian sorority
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If you were a member of the Christian fraternity in Berkeley during the Spring of 97, this apology is for you.
I didn't want to be there anymore than you wanted me to. I couldn't find anywhere else to rent, because of the housing crunch. It was pretty creepy for me, a confirmed agnostic with a penchant for the word "cuntfuck" and Bacardi, to find myself renting out the attic of a Christian sorority. It was even stranger to room with a 28 year old mousy Korean girl named Grace who used to lie motionless in the bunk above me, tightly clutching her Bible to her chest.
I would see you guys every once in a while, while sneaking out the back and literally climbing a fence to take the long way to school so that nobody would think that I was in the sorority. We never really interacted, until your Rush Week, which oddly enough coincided with the first week of exams.
I didn't mind when you toilet papered the house. (You cads!)
I didn't mind when you took the girls out for a rousing outings of bowling, ice cream socials and bum-killings. (Or was it bible studies?)
I didn't mind when you quietly sat in the parlor and quivered when I wandered by in a tank top.
However, when you decided to come serenade the sorority at 2 AM on a Wednesday, the night before my Organic Chem midterm, I really did mind. Granted, it may have been a little overboard to throw open the windows of the attic and shriek, "Jesus fucking Christ! Shut the fuck up, you assholes, I have a fucking midterm tomorrow, you goddamn fairy dipshits."
Honestly, I really do feel bad about it and it's been gnawing away at me for a couple of years now. I just want you to know that it was me, the "heathen" and not one of the genuinely nice and sweet girls who lived there and were actually part of the sorority.
Really, I'm sorry. I swear! And not in that bad scary way that you expect of me.