BY KENDAL RINKO

In print | Published April 2, 2009

Well, I have to admit, I failed you this week. While I did complete one bucket list item of planning a campus-wide event, I do not want to bore you with the sleepless details of an activity that made it into The Phoenix last week, and anything else I accomplished last week is not worthy of your time. So, instead of completing another bucket list item, I thought I’d relive a legendary moment from freshman year; a moment that, if I had not already completed it, would definitely be on the top of my bucket list now: the day I wore a towel to class.

It’s freshman year, we’re playing Assassins in Willets, and yes, I eventually won. I’m having a fun time with this strange, new game, when I find out my new assassinator is the sophomore girl, let’s call her “Sheila”, who left bruises on my friend’s arms during a Parrish beach brawl, tricked another friend into a situation of which he could only escape by pulling down his pants in the middle of Kohlberg, and had been obsessed with winning Assassins for the past year. I have never seen her, but I am determined to rectify these unjust acts against my friends by preventing this girl from assassinating me at all costs: I shift into Hardcore Defense Mode.

Hardcore Defense Mode forced me to undergo numerous prank phone calls, late night knocks on my door, a 20-yard dash down the science corridor to class followed by a 5-minute “glue my butt to my seat until my professor arrives or prepare to take my pants off if all else fails” panic, unnecessary extra classes to prevent my assassinator from knowing I ever went to or left my classes, strange meals at strange hours, early wakeups to avoid an obsessed Sheila sitting outside of the girls’ bathroom, and a constant thudding of the heart.

After a few days of this madness, I finally decided that “enough was enough!” This girl did not play nice and my heart and I needed a day of respite. The rule “You cannot assassinate someone while they’re ‘indecent’” came to mind. So, I woke up early on the last day of her “death squad-free” reign, walked to the field house in my pajamas, with my school bag, soccer equipment and a handy-dandy towel.

I took a little nap, ate my breakfast in the locker room, and then changed into my fabulous green towel. I put on my snazzy sequin hat to top off the outfit, slipped on my shoes and headed off to class. I then proceeded to sit through Spanish, receiving a quiet, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say, so I won’t say much” response from el querido Professor Machuca, went to Sharples for a stress-free lunch and went to a Soc/Anth class with Professor Sheller who also politely accepted my strange attire. My most gratifying moment was when Sheila came over to me at lunch and, recognizing her defeat on this particular day, said, “That was a really cool idea.” (Although I swear, evidenced by her roaming eyes and fidgety hands, she was searching for a way to rip the towel off of me right then and there.)

Sadly, my victory was not so simply won there. I had soccer practice later that day, and I knew that Sheila would not miss the opportunity to catch me out of my towel. Proving my insanity to the team, I wore my towel to Cunningham Field and changed into my uniform there. Lo and behold, we are not even a few minutes into practice when Sheila decides to be a ‘spectator.’ My teammates are ready to form a circle around me if necessary, and although I informed my coach of the situation, he still thinks this is all a joke (he’s new to Swarthmore).

Next thing I know, Sheila runs onto the field and after me during warm-ups. I run away (like lightning!) and get my coach’s attention. He finally understands the seriousness behind my words and tells her that she is allowed to stay at our practice but that she cannot come onto the field (a.k.a. she has to wait until I step off of the field to get me). Of course, I somehow “accidentally” get a little too close to her while chasing a ball (call me stupid or ‘ballsy,’ your call).

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Sheila charges after me. Like a little kid on the playground, I dash toward my coach (who for me is ‘base’) and he sees the “rule-breaker.” With my luck, this violation of policy had Coach sending her off of Cunningham and back to her little Willets hole. After practice, I changed back into my towel, while the girls surrounded me, certain that my assassinator was probably waiting in the woods, and my wonderful assistant coach, amused that I was going cuckoo, agreed to drive me to the back of Willets (bless her!).

The rest of the story is history. The next day the Death Squad caught her, and I cleverly proceeded to climb to victory, hiding behind classroom doors, staking out behind trees, and circling around Professor Tierney with a fellow freshman in a full-out, physical duel (Forget the gym, just play Assassins for a week). Since then, I’ve published the book, “ASSassins for Dummies” and have a strong Facebook following. “2005 Willets ASSassins Champ” is also on my resume (is that why I can’t find a job?). Anyone out there in need of a Hardcore Defense Mode ASSassins training session, make sure you contact me before this invaluable resource graduates. I’ll be waiting to meet you in a green towel.

Kendal is a senior. You can reach her at krinko1@swarthmore.edu.

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