Hey, it’s me, your Gator 1.
Our relationship started out in the honeymoon phase. We were constantly attached and I felt like you really needed me. Over the years you’ve started to forget about me.
I’ve had a lot of time to think lately and I want to take a little walk down memory lane. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll help you to appreciate me again.
Summer B was the beginning of it all. It was raining that day and the Gainesville humidity made your hair stand on end. You awkwardly waited and pretended to be on your phone so you wouldn’t have to talk to anyone else in line. You were pretty horrified by my photo, but I didn’t care, I thought you looked great. On that day I started to identify myself with you and our friendship began.
I was your constant buddy for trips to the dining hall. You literally couldn’t live without me. The accumulation of flex bucks resulted in several Starbucks drinks (providing you some much needed caffeine). I was a necessity for every game day and a good luck charm for all those “What is the Good Life” exams. I could tell that having me was a sense of pride for you. I am what made you a Florida Gator and I could prove that to any passerby.
Remember all the good times we had? I hope you aren’t still mad that I couldn’t get you into Fat Daddy’s freshman year, but we put up a good fight. And I really think that time I made you miss your exam was my fault. I mean, I don’t know how you forgot me at your dorm. I really don’t.
Moving into sophomore year, my presence was less forward. It was like you could just stuff me in your back pocket, leave me to suffer through that community washing machine and not even notice I was missing until you were denied entry at the next home game and suddenly needed me.
I tried not to take it too personally. Maybe you really were too cool for me. I understood the need to throw away your lanyard and replacing my picture made sense too. You grew tired of the lines at Broward dining and I couldn’t get you into Cantina like that ID your sister gave you. That was truly my downfall.
Junior year has been kind of a blur. I was left outside of Grog on your 21st sign night and you didn’t seem to care. I was officially the “second form” and was rarely needed unless you wore too much eyeliner or a bouncer was being overly skeptical. I tried not to get too bent out of shape about it.
Moving into senior year, I hope you realize that this relationship will truly end soon. You are only a University of Florida student for a few more months and graduation day doubles as my expiration date. Unless you are planning on a fifth year that I am not aware of, next semester will be our curtain call.
Everyone starts to put together these great senior bucket lists and I could be a part of that. Lets go see a gymnastics meet, become a Rowdy Reptile or even rent some racquets for the Broward tennis courts.
I may be a little rough around the edges, but I’m still the same old friend you’ve always known. We’ve been close since that Preview session, right before the unforgettable (but hardly remembered) month of Summer B.
Now that we have said goodbye to meal plans and the bank account is even lower than when we entered campus, I hope you will reflect on what our first moments really meant. I was your official Gator 1 ID and the key to the best four years of your life.
So make the most of the time you have left. Cling to your identification as a UF Student for as long as you can. I can provide endless access to so many forms of local entertainment, earn some killer student discounts and I represent the fact that you are a student at the best university in the state of Florida.
It’s a scary world out there and being a student is only a free pass for so long.
Sincerely,
Your Gator 1 ID
