How Chapel Hill made me
Pt. 2a of cities that shaped, molded, and made me
Once upon a time, colleges sent acceptance letters via snail mail.
If the letter was in a thin envelope, it was probably a rejection or deferment.
If you received a slightly bigger envelope with school branding, then it usually meant good news.
So, I was excited the day I got my “fat” acceptance letter to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
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Chapel Hill was just far enough away from Charlotte (approx. 2 hours by car) to feel like I was leaving home, but close enough to where I could still go home for mom’s cooking and the occasional loads of laundry.
I know some people really thrive in their college years—they find their footing and confidence and friend group, perhaps even meet their future husbands and wives.
But you know what? College was a weird time for me.
I had multiple identity crises and felt like I never really belonged in any particular clique.
Sure I went out, had fun, partied, and met lots of people, but I was more excited about finishing as fast as I could, so I could leave and make my mark in the world.
The “real world” called me so much that with all my AP high school credits, I was able to graduate in 3.5 years.
I could’ve done it in 2, but I didn’t feel ready and wanted to study abroad.
Looking back, I was impatient and could have used some reminders to savor college and be more present in the moment.
To my regret, I left without forging deeper, lasting female friendships. I mean, my old roommates and I follow each other on social media, but aside from that we’re not close.
I’m actually closer with my guy friends from UNC; I’ve followed their careers and families, mostly because of mutual friends and because they made an effort to stay connected through NYC social gatherings and coffee meetups.
As for Greek life, I didn’t understand what it was all about, so I didn’t rush or feel compelled to join a sorority.
Before & after
Freshman me was all about baggy jeans and sneakers, going to raves, dancing all night, and smoking weed.
What I wouldn’t give to get all those Buggirl pants and JNCO jeans back in my closet.😭
Senior me was into hip hop music (I reviewed rap albums for the college paper, The Daily Tar Heel), bootcut jeans, and heeled boots.
Where I worked
I had several jobs throughout college, and it was the first time I began grasping the financial concepts of “opportunity cost” and the “time value of money.”
Once I realized I could make way more money in one job vs. another, in the same amount of time, I switched up my efforts real quick.
The Davis Library
I worked at the Davis Library on campus as part of a financial aid work study program.
I got paid next to nothing—but I did learn the Dewey Decimal system of cataloguing books.
It was an easy job; quiet and pleasant, and when I wasn’t checking out books I was reading and studying.
One day I was on one of the top floors re-shelving books and peeked into a book about the wives of Henry VIII.
I love Tudor history and learned how Anne Boleyn got her head cut off swiftly with a sword instead of an axe—the usual, less merciful way they cut peoples’ heads off back then.
Classifieds desk at the Daily Tar Heel
One of my least favorite jobs was at the DTH classifieds desk, only because the start time was 8am.
My coworkers, however, were lovely.
Eight in the morning doesn’t seem early at all to me now, but to a college student who may or may not have been out late, trying to wake up early, shower, and run to an office to take phone calls from people wanting to place classifed ads, well, 8am was pretty brutal.
I don’t think I lasted the full semester.
I did, however, eventually end up writing for the DTH, for the Arts & Entertainment section and even having my own editorial column—the beginning of a long and storied writing career.
The video store
Before Netflix and other streaming services, there were DVD and “video” stores like Blockbuster.
I worked as a DVD/video clerk at the huge, off campus VisArt Video store, which was next to a pizza joint called Amante, and the iconic Cat’s Cradle, a live music venue and nightclub.
Alas the pizza place is gone, but the club endures.
I loved, loved, loved that job.
Even though it paid barely over minimum wage.
Everyone from my bosses to coworkers were incredibly cool; we had so much fun goofing around, and in the summer we would have wild after parties while watching some crazy movies.
The pizza store would also give us all their mistake or unclaimed pizzas, and luckily, they were delicious.
Oh, and the people watching of all the kids who would go to the live shows and spill in to the video store was intensely entertaining; everyone from goth to punk to clubrats to metal kids to plain dudes in prep wear—the fashion was sublime.
During shifts, we also took turns picking movies that played on a big TV in the store for all to see, especially the customers waiting in the checkout line.
Our pics couldn’t be Rated R, and they had to be family-appropriate.
So, kinda like today when you’re given the responsibility of being the road trip DJ, there was a little pressure among your coworkers to pick something “cool” but also “entertaining” for everyone.
More than once I played the 2nd half of Titanic, because that’s when the ship sinks and everyone dies. It’s truly incredible cinema:
And I watched with pride as a small crowd assembled under the TV to watch the death and destruction.
I was also able to geek out on obscure foreign and indie films, and became quite the film snob, being introduced to filmmakers like Jim Jarmusch and Derek Jarman.
Oddly enough, there was also a massive adult section in the back of the store.
It was interesting to say the least and I’ll save those stories for another day.
The gentleman's club
The last job I worked before leaving Chapel Hill was as a cocktail waitress at a gentleman’s club in Raleigh, about 45 minutes away.
One of my best girlfriends from home was attending college in Atlanta, and told me she’d started cocktail waitressing at a popular strip club, taking home hundreds of dollars per night.
I was like, what the what?! Here I was busting my hump re-shelving DVDs for just over minimum wage at the video store, and so tired of worrying about paying my rent and being a poor college student.
So, I interviewed and got a job as a cocktail waitress.
Two to 4 nights per week I’d drive to Raleigh, leaving the house around 6pm and getting back between 1:30-2am.
The uniform required super uncomfortable platform heels the entire shift, and my feet hurt so badly by the end of the night I had to massage them just so they would fit back into regular shoes and I could walk normally.
But I felt so smug when my neighbor, who worked as a bartender, came by one night and mentioned taking home $30 in tips, when I’d just taken home $300+.
Sure I put up with a fair share of cheapskates, assholes, and douchebags, but most of the clientele was fairly decent and excellent tippers.
I was also such a nerd and didn’t know anything about booze, so I actually had to study champagne, whiskey, bourbon, vodka, and liquor names so I would know what people meant when they ordered, “Seven & Seven,” or “Glenmorangie on the rocks.”
My parents thought I was waitressing at a steakhouse, which is 50% true if you consider the strip club was technically attached to a steakhouse.
Mom & Dad if you’re reading this, sorry about not telling you, but I didn’t want to ask you for money and needed to buy myself things and pay my rent.
And this concludes the first installment of “How Chapel Hill made me.”
You’ll have to stick around for part 2 in a few weeks’ time, when I talk about:
how I got into the London Honors study abroad program by the skin of my teeth,
my silly relationships,
my stalker, who broke into my apartment, was arrested for that and a string of crimes, and is serving time. It wasn’t good. And of course,
the car accident that changed the course of my life
**
Until next time,
Shindy
***
What I’ve been up to:
*How (this city) made me is a monthly series about how certain cities shaped, molded, and made me. One week out of each month for the next 4 or 5 months I’ll dedicate a letter to a city where I’ve lived for a longer stretch.
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Your post was stellar snd fascinating.🤨
I went to Virginia Tech at seventeen. The mountains of snow and 8:00AM classes across the entire campus were brutal and not for me. I missed many of those early classes and kept up by reading, completely, and submitting all assignments. Worked for me!
Tech was not a time in my life that I have great memories of but I needed to leave home early.
Like you, I didn’t make any female friends that I stayed in touch with at all the nanosecond I left.
I had an odd roommate and never felt comfortable.
She was all about horses, quite reclusive, and no humor, so I pretty much stayed out of the dorm room all day.
I loved reading about every job you had, now thinking, I should have worked in a club!
😂
Ron and I both put ourselves through college, grad school, speech-path internships, board exams for both of us, dental school, etc, while working three jobs each to succeed and earn our educational credentials. We’ll never forget this and ALWAYS say that doing this ourselves makes us appreciate our educations immensely all the time, just like you!
Thank you for your candor, experiences, and your life each week! I look so forward to Fridays.
Cats Cradle, one of America’s iconic venues…almost got me to register at UNC !