Four score and 78 weeks ago, I was a young, inspired freshman seeking to be involved on campus.

Over the course of the year, I joined a fraternity, played intramurals, attended a handful of campus events and made many friends.     

I did not join any campus organizations -- CAC was not for me. However, by the power of peer pressure, my friends coerced me into applying to work for Camp Crimson.

I attended Camp Crimson when I was an incoming freshman and I hated it. This may be terribly difficult to believe, but I am not a high energy, peppy, let's all chant about how much we love chants kind of guy. I respect the heck out of people who are like that -- the kind of person who can get someone excited about being excited. I applied to be a small group leader, anyway, because I wanted to be there for the kids who were not as peppy and needed some guidance in other ways, but mostly to build a resume. That kind of selflessness was exactly why I thought I was a perfect candidate for the job.                             

Coincidentally, the Camp Crimson interview was also the first true interview I ever experienced. It was the perfect storm -- a high-pressure interview that I really did not want to attend with high-energy, passionate people for which I wore a suit with a high-thread count. To my surprise, the first half of the interview went pretty well. I sat in a room with a faculty member and went over my resume while I answered questions about my life, interests and why I wanted the job of small group leader. The one-on-one setting calmed my nerves, and I even felt a little semblance of confidence as I joined a group of six peers at a long, broad wooden table in a conference room for the group portion of the interview. Across from the six of us sat three upperclassman -- three people whom I did not know, but recognized because of their involvement in just about every group and organization that had ever existed in the history of the University of Oklahoma.                              

At this point, the little voice in the back of my head, that had once stirred confidence in my heart, turned to me and said, “Bruh, we are done here. These people are going to see right through you into your soul, your frightened and sweaty little soul.” I refused to believe it. I probably should have. My only chance, I thought, was to make myself stand out from the impressive group of six potential small group leaders next to me with an interview answer so unique and charismatic that there would be no chance that anyone in the room would ever forget my face. I did exactly that.          

I learned two important interview rules that day that I would like to share with the world. Rule one is relax, be calm, and be yourself. Rule two is if you’re pretty weird, be someone else. I should have listened to rule number two. The interviewer asked questions to everyone at the table, slowly making his way down to my end. He, seemingly, gazed into my very soul and asked, “If you could be either, would you rather be a pirate or a ninja?” First of all, who asks that kind of a question to a normal person? Second of all, you are going to want to pay attention because this is where I really mess up.         

Without skipping a beat, I replied, “Probably a pirate, because I love booty.” Unfortunately for everyone in the room, he did not catch my answer the first time, asked me to repeat it, and I once again replied, “Yeah, a pirate, because I would love to get all that booty, you know?” No. He definitely did not know. All I wanted to do was separate myself from the other candidates, and that is exactly what I did. I separated myself directly into the “no chance” stack of applications, and also into the rare -- I would argue, elite -- group of people who have made a booty joke in an interview.         

I was not selected to be a small group leader. However, I did learn many things from this experience, like that you should only apply for things that you are really interested in and that your mom will be really embarrassed when she finds out that you told someone that you want to get booty in an interview. But, now, look who is writing for The Odyssey.