Ivy League Degrees are for Pussies

Today at work (I have an internship at McCarter Theatre blah blah blah I'll write about it at some point) some of us went Dumpster Diving on the Princeton University campus.
Y'know, it's when you go through all the furniture that the college kids left lying on the lawn when they moved out and see if there's anything worth keeping. We have the same thing at Rutgers only it goes by a slightly more...racist name.

Anyway, I was looking for a love seat to put in my room so people don't have to all cram onto my bed like some kind of orgy just to watch an episode of 12 Oz. Mouse. However, as we made our way around the school, I started to feel really pathetic about the whole idea. I kept imagining running into someone I used to know and what the conversation would go like.

Them: Hey, Jon!
Me: Oh. Hey, Person I Used To Know. What have you been up to?
Them: Me? I go to Princeton University now. How about you?
Me: I went to Rutgers. Now I'm going through your trash.

The worst part of it was we weren't even finding anything. Turns out the university, probably in a bid to discourage this kind of thing, had set up tents where students could drop off unwanted items to be sold for charity. Sanctimonious assholes!
So I was just walking around getting more and more depressed until we came across a sign that had been put up to direct crowds during this past weekend's graduation ceremony. It said this:

"NO NOT ENTER"

Suddenly I got all happy again. These Ivy League douche bags weren't so great! They had typos just like the rest of us! And they even printed them out and put them on signs!

This euphoria lasted for a brief moment until I began second-guessing myself. Perhaps Princeton students were in face so smart that they used double negatives in their directions just to fuck with stupid state school students like me. Soon I was all depressed again. And I never even got a love seat.

Fuck Princeton.