Though aware of the price of his time at Cal, he allows himself the occasional Patriot’s experience of getting beer faced at homecoming.
What would be the point in transferring from University in Scotland if he didn’t enjoy some U.S. debauchery rite?
He’s getting his American dollar’s worth, studying Latin-American Art History, riding his bike across the Bay Bridge and going to American football games instead of pseudo-European raves in the city.
The cost of admittance inspires his diligence, so he picks his vices wisely.
He has learned the price of Saturday night,
“That’s what Sundays are for right?”
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