During this time of year, many students are rushing Greek life chapters on campus. An insightful rejection letter sent in from one of our beloved frats could provide help on the dos and don’ts of the process.
Dear Applicant,
Thank you for your application to Sigma Pigma Delta Omicron. As you may know, we boast a long history of social networking (the bacchic variety), lifelong bromance (no homo) and community service (court mandated) for all who are invited. Due to the prestigious and elite nature of our organization, the application process was highly competitive. Our admissions committee has reviewed your application and we regret to inform you that we are not able to offer you a seat in this year’s pledge class.
Nonetheless, we were indubiously impressed by your eagerness to join. Showing up with cupcakes was a great start. We were also taken aback by your performance of original spoken word poetry, and your PowerPoint presentation was well-thought-out and insightful, especially the part where you read aloud a letter your 12-year-old self had written to you.
However, we pride ourselves on creating a brotherhood of increasing physical and mental fortitude. We screen all applicants for the following criteria: must be 6’0 and above, have a 2.0 maximum GPA, and be able to bench 225. Although you listed on your application that you were 6’2, when we whipped out the tape measure, you barely made it past 5’2, even when you stood on your tippy toes. When provided with a 10-pound weight for bicep curls, you said “careful boys, these guns are unlicensed,” then immediately cried about a “strain from overuse” in your left wrist and had to be taken by ambulance to the emergency department. We brought you in again the next day for another take. You tried to chug a Truly without burping, threw up, and requested to, once again, be taken by ambulance to the emergency department for an “encore.”
Though you did just barely meet our GPA requirement, and were able to recite from memory the lyrics to Justin Bieber’s hit song “Never Say Never,” it is equally important to us that you are able to gel socially with fellow recruits. Unfortunately, a few singular instances during the process stood out. First, you kept referring to rush week as the “audition of a lifetime.” When asked what your preferred recreational drug was, you said that you “get high on life.” Also, it’s important that you know our formal terms of address include “dude, bro, my guy,” etc. “My peepies” is unacceptable. Finally, at around 9 p.m., you said “it’s past my bedtime” and promptly fell asleep on the couch, at which point fellow pledges had to carry you home and tuck you in.
Overall, it was evident that you were eager to join. Nevertheless, you will henceforth not be allowed within 50 feet of our premises.
We look forward to turning you away from our opens for the rest of your time here at UR.
Sincerely,
Sigma Pigma Delta Omicron
