It was Parent’s Weekend my freshman year. I was surrounded by students who stunk of Ozium and hangover sweats, all collectively pretending that we weren’t glad as hell that our parents had come back for us a mere month into college. All was going well. My parents and I did all the traditional go-to activities for Parents Weekend. We walked up and down Middle Path, called North Campus “downtown,” made the trek to the KAC as if they’d never seen it before, ran into a boy who ghosted me and exchanged absolutely no eye-contact, showed them my dorm for the third time because I ran out of things to show them.
It was then that we spotted the one and only D-Cat, suited up and ready to venture out into the throng of Paparazzi Parents awaiting him. My mother decided to capitalize on the opportunity, making her way to the president. My dad trailed behind in his Kenyon T-shirt, Kenyon hat, Kenyon pullover jacket, all of which he had selected at the bookstore five minutes beforehand.
As to how the conversation turned into the quasi-intervention it became, I’m unsure. Possibly, my mother decided that after a few minutes of conversation with Decatur they were at the point in their relationship that she could tell him Anything.
She decided to tell Decatur that he looks like Gus from Breaking Bad.
If you don’t watch Breaking Bad, or need a refresher, Gus is a Very Bad Man. On the outside, he’s a friendly manager of a fried chicken joint, a sweet man who ends up actually running a drug empire and murdering a LOT of people. My mother, right there on Middle Path, told our Fearless Leader that he reminds her of a meth distributor, a full-blown drug kingpin.
Out of politeness, or maybe just shock, Decatur responded to my mother’s comment with a light chuckle and said, “I get that a lot.” Innocent enough of a reaction, I guess, except for the fact that multiple people besides my mother have made the same decision to tell Decatur that he looks like a Critic’s Choice Award-winning drug lord.
To this day, my mom recalls the interaction with complete amusement. I can’t help thinking, though, that I’ve never actually seen Gus and D-Cat in the same room before. I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, my mother might be on to something.