An Apology to My 1998 Sorority Semiformal Pint Glass

I’m so sorry.

You started life so promisingly. When the box of formal glassware opened in the dining room of the house, you were swarmed by a pack of 19- and 20-year-old ladies, thrilled at the prospect of getting their mitts on you. Out of the many boxes of coveted Pi Beta Phi Cocktails 1998 pint glasses, I chose you. You. You were mine. I treasured you.

You were even more coveted by 1998 RPI boys, who vied for an invitation to the Pi Beta Phi 1998 Cocktails. (This may or may not be true, but I tell myself this so I can believe that once upon a time, if only for four short years, I was cool by association.)

Our first drink together was, of course, the night of November 14, 1998. It was an Alabama Slammer. I know this, because at that time one of the four things we could watch at Pi Phi was the movie “Cocktail” because we were too poor for cable and all we had was a VCR with four tapes: “Cocktail,” “Clueless,” “Top Gun,” and “Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.” The Alabama Slammer was a big deal in “Cocktail,” but none of us knew what it was. We found out on the night of November 14, 1998, because some weird bartender hired by the weird bar owner knew how to make them for us. I’m also relatively sure I flushed part of my dress down the toilet that night. It happens.

The night of November 14, 1998, your partner glass went to some fraternity guy named “Killer” who I asked a sister to set me up with because he seemed cool. Then a year later I started dating him and then seven years later I married him. Who marries their Cocktails setup date? Embarrassing. Sorry.

I’m sorry I’ve had just one drink from you in weeks, and that it was a Cosmo made with Ketel One and a Stonewall Kitchen apple cranberry mixer. We are yuppies now.

I’m sorry that we’re nerds now. Well, we were before, but now we really own it. I’m sorry you have to live in a house with so many whiteboards. I’m sorry when “Weird Science” comes on the TV you have to hear an explanation of why the computer the two nerds are using has 1,000 times less power than a cell phone and how the whole movie loses all credibility due to that. Because apparently other than that one fact, the movie is completely credible.

I’m sorry that sometimes when I wake up the morning after drinking from you, I’m achy and dreading the idea of getting out of bed because I did a whole heap of yard work the day before. And that I give thanks to the water I drank from you, that facilitated my taking Advil before I went to bed. ‘Cause otherwise it would be so much worse. I’m sorry I won’t shop at Bed Bath & Beyond without a coupon.

I’m sorry you have to sit on a counter with a baby bottle and a sippy cup that somehow has a wad of silly putty adhered to the side of it. You will likely meet your eventual demise at the greasy hands of a child. One of them will bumble across the kitchen holding you — full of milk — then trip on their own feet and send you flying to the tile floor. You will shatter and die, and they will not understand why their otherwise iron-souled mother will burst into tears.

I’m sorry the most crazy-fun party you’ve been to in the last 10 years included a 2-year-old running across the house, trailing a blue balloon, eating a whoopee pie, and wearing an R2D2 helmet and no pants.

I chose you, you know. I was Social Chair in November of 1998. And I remember scouring the sorority glassware catalog. Should we get pint glasses or shot glasses? Pint glasses. So much classier. So much more functional. We nailed it.

But really, Pi Beta Phi 1998 Cocktails Pint Glass, what is it that you want? While I have become pathetically boring and unhip, while I vastly prefer the comfort of sneakers over four-inch heels, and while I reluctantly admit to getting really excited when I receive the monthly sale email from The Container Store, this is where we are.

So deal with it, Pi Beta Phi 1998 Cocktails pint glass. Just deal with it. Try to enjoy your cozy suburban cupboard. Maybe if we’re lucky, one day I’ll soak my dentures in you. Until then, I’ll enjoy my monthly visits with you and my yuppie Stonewall Kitchen Cosmo. Cheers, Pi Beta Phi 1998 Cocktails pint glass, my friend. Cheers.