The following story is based on true events, but the names, dates, locations, and circumstances have altered to preserve the identities of the idiot(s) involved.

We all have a friend like Glen. Glen is a great kid; just polite as hell and wouldn’t harm a fly, but he can be a little dorky here and there. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d think he’s the type-casted fringe guy. Sometimes he says something awkward, the conversation becomes completely shot, and the people around him slowly evacuate. His social skills are a little ripe, but the guy just wants to fit in. He won’t go to the end of the earth to do so, but he’ll get damn close, just so he can have a group of guy friends to kick it with and maybe… just maybe… be seen and perhaps recognized by some attractive girls his age (Although, that might be a stretch).

Glen is an out-of-state freshman, in the middle of welcome week at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, feeling good, crisp, and ready to make his mark at college. Glen has a pretty social floor in his dorm, and after making a decent first impression with some of the jocks on his floor, simply by not saying much of anything at all, he was invited to pregame with them and then roll to a house party later that evening. 

Glen came into Wisconsin being the only one from his high school and decided to roll the dice and be in the pool for a random roommate. Boy, did he swing and miss. Glen’s roommate, Lyle, was a total stiff. The guy slept all day and then played Fortnite and Apex all night with a headset on, while nursing a half dozen Monster Energy drinks. Not that Glen even wanted his company, but it would have been nice for Glen to have a decent wingman for his first night on the town. But no. Glen was on his own. I’ll just say it now, Glen’s story is a tragedy.

It’s a quarter to 10 at night and Glen links up with the guys on his floor. Usually at this time, Glen is getting comfortable on the couch with Mom and Dad, absolutely stoked about all the Jeopardy they were going to watch. Not anymore, Glen. This is college, and the nights start later. His 11:00 bedtime was about to meet a 12-car freight train, head on.

The guy was in for a tough night the moment he left his dorm room. As soon he walks through the door of the pregame, he is offered a zyn by one of the guys. Glen didn’t even get a chance to scan the room. The offer happened so fast, Glen couldn’t even get the guy’s name. For the sake of simple names, we will call this guy ‘Roy’. Glen, being incredibly polite, responds with, “Thanks so much for offering, but I have plenty of gum already,” and then he goes the extra mile to reveal this back pocket is loaded with 9 small white strips of mint gum. Roy chuckles at first, but then immediately realizes that Glen is as serious as a heart attack. Roy informs Glen that zyns are tobacco-free nicotine pouches, and then asks Glen once again if he would like one. Now obviously Glen has never had one, but Glen usually isn’t one to fall under peer pressure. Like I said earlier, Glen isn’t a hallmark movie character that will do just anything to fit in. But this is an important interaction. He wanted to be able to have some buddies in his wheelhouse to hangout with. He also wanted to have the social freedom to be himself while he finds new friends, but he didn’t want his lack of use of substance experience of any kind to be a damper or have that rub anyone the wrong way. 

Glen accepted the zyn, but he wasn’t planning on using it. He was hoping that Roy would just walk away, and then he would just toss it in the trash. Glen was wrong. Roy stayed right where he was, almost like he was waiting for Glen to put the zyn in his mouth. Sweat began to form on Glen’s forehead. Glen wasn’t ready for this. “God it feels like Florida in here,” Glen chuckled nervously, but Roy hardly even smiled. Glen immediately understood that was a dumbshit thing to say. He exhaled and was about to put the zyn in his mouth but then he stopped and said, “You know what, I think I should probably have a drink or two before I pop this in,” and Glen put it in his back pocket. Roy raised an eyebrow, not because of the response, more because of the delay between Glen’s actions, but then realized this wasn’t worth fretting over and then walked away from Glen. A huge weight was lifted off of Glen’s shoulders. Phew. That was close. Unfortunately, it doesn’t end there.

After the close call with Roy and the zyn, Glen got a chance to catch his breath, walk around a little bit, and talk to all the boys and girls in the room. He met some cool people and, for the most part, he even held his own in many conversations. Things were looking up for Glen. But like I said earlier, this is a tragic tale for Glen.

 The pregame was near its conclusion, and some of the guys were smoking weed. Roy was one of those guys and when he was asked if they should close up shop, he suggested that Glen of all people should have a smoke. Suddenly all the eyes in the room, guys and girls alike, turn to face wide-eyed Glen. Glen just stood there like a deer in headlights. He didn’t have the courage to say that he had never done it before nor did he have social confidence to say that he wasn’t interested in trying it tonight. Some of the guys and girls started to egg him on. He couldn’t wiggle his way out of this one. He said yes, slowly approached the  table, sat down, and smoked the bowl. He coughed a couple times, but for the most part, he handled his first smoke pretty well. 

He wasn’t high. Other than having a dry throat, he felt relatively normal. But Glen suddenly became very hyper-aware of how his breath smelled. No problem, he thought, as he came prepared. He had an arsenal of gum loaded in his back pocket. He started popping pieces of gum into his mouth like a madman. Even with five pieces of gum in his mouth, he grabbed one more from his back pocket and inhaled it. Except something tasted very different about that piece of gum. The texture was weird too, as it broke easily upon being chewed and he accidentally swallowed small fragments. He ignored it and continued to socialize as best he could. 

While Glen was in the middle of talking to a couple girls his age, Roy walked up and put a hand on Glen’s shoulder. “I gotta say, you’re a pretty cool kid, Glen,” he announeced to the group. Glen smiled in response, but his smile was ingenuine and a coverup. Something was seriously wrong with Glen’s stomach. It felt like someone just made him drink an entire gallon of milk and then that same person punched him in the gut immediately after. Glen was in pain. He couldn’t call it quits this early in the night and right when he’s getting some positive attention. He needed to fight through this.

He reached in his back pocket and pulled out all the gum he had remaining. He thought that chewing on some gum would take his mind off the pain. But when he opened his hand to see what was in his pocket, he saw only white gum strips. Glen’s stomach dropped to new depths. The zyn that Roy gave him was gone. Glen had already blindly chewed and swallowed it. His face turned white and he began to feel queasy.

“Hey, you alright bud, you’re looking a little—” Roy began, before Glen projectile vomited all over Roy’s shirt. Glen threw up again, but this time he sprayed the girls he was talking to. He threw up once more, gunning Roy in the face, getting a healthy amount of vomit right in his mouth.

Glen never made it to the house party. That pregame was his final destination. But not just for that night, but for many nights. He laid low with his tramp roommate for a while, running Fortnite and Apex deep into the early hours of most mornings, sitting over a pile of crushed energy drink cans, all while being constantly haunted that packing too much gum was responsible for the death of his social existence.