Empty cars parked in G lot, September 26th, 2007.
Dave Londres

Hello, freshmen! You are currently enjoying the best moments of college. You like all your neighbors (in three weeks your floor will be severely cliquey and probably on fire) and you are not yet fat. But to continue the fun, you must befriend a certain someone on your floor. We will call him “Car Guy.”

Maybe you thought that RIT’s quarter-mile long campus (complete with an ice cream parlor and a pretend SportsCenter set) would provide you with all the entertainment you needed for five years. But Car Guy knew better. He knew that someday he might actually want to explore the great city of Rochester, with its museums, restaurants, and depressing zoo (did you know polar bears can cry?) So, when he found out that freshmen were allowed cars, he proudly parked his white Dodge Spirit in B-Lot, which is just outside of Albany.

If you learn to take advantage of Car Guy effectively, you could enjoy a (literal) free ride through RIT. Just follow these three handy tips (I call it Triple P):

Persistence

Car Guy may not want to lend you his beloved automobile right away. Some would-be borrowers might establish a lasting friendship and build trust to gain access to the car, but there’s an easier way that doesn’t involve going to all of his ballroom dance recitals. The very first moment you require off-campus travel (let’s get beta fish!), ask him for a ride. Wanting to be a “cool” floormate (unlike that guy with the beard), he will certainly comply. But don’t stop there. Keep asking for rides. After the fifth trip to Wegmans (let’s get Coca-cola!), he’ll tire of taxi driving, toss you the keys and pretend he trusts you. It’s even quicker if you’re a photo student (attractive). Let’s take 24 photos downtown! But after six hours of wandering a bad neighborhood searching for a puddle that reflects sodium light, he’ll give you his keys next time without a fight (so you can photograph gravestones).

Payment

Now you’ve established a healthy mooching relationship with Car Guy, but soon you may look selfish. He may start to ask you to put gas in the car, but that costs upwards of $9,000 (and 9/10 of a cent). Instead, buy him something cheap but satisfying. When you arrive home with a delicious doughnut (flour, corn syrup, cocaine), he’ll forget all about the gas. Other suggestions include beta fish, Coca-cola, or five hilarious but ultimately useless items from Dollar Tree.

Problem

This final tip will seal the deal. Borrow his car to go pick up your long-lost dying grandmother who is only in town for a few hours at the airport. On the way, have his car break down. Make it something that isn’t your fault (lie). Now, even though you were mooching, he will feel terrible that you didn’t get to see your estranged father who just got freed from a Chinese prison. Therefore, next time you ask him for the car, he’ll be so flattered that you still turn to him for a favor that he won’t notice your mooching. You’re officially golden! How did I grow so wise? Am I a mooching expert? Nope (don’t ask my roommate). Truth is, I was Car Guy. So next time you’re driving a floormate’s crappy car, perhaps you can put a gallon or two in the tank, for my sake. (Actually, can you just put it in my tank?)