The tour is the ultimate brochure. You fantasize, in striking detail, about where you'll live, eat, study, and indulge. As if the choice of where to go was still up to you.

I, for instance, got the thin envelope. It was so precise, such a charmingly deft incision. I felt, very clearly, my sense of self-worth suddenly drain out, hit the sidewalk, and start begging for change. I got over it. Because it was only a deferral, after all! No need to worry -- forget early decision... do not ask what is it; let us go and make our college visit! And I enjoyed it, even in my pitiful rejected state.

If that visit was capable of reviving my self-worth, I pondered, would not taking one now have a similar effect? Would it remind me of the reasons I decided to come here - to Barnard, at least-or at least afford me the chance to mess with the pre-frosh mind set? I recruited a fellow Fed writer and infiltrated a tour the next day, afterwards persuading two anxious prospies to allow me to conduct a "Fed Director's Cut" tour for them.

Let's compare my tours, former and latter.

The Impetuous: Former
Scene - chem lab, small high school in Tucson, Arizona. "So, I was thinking of going to New York," says a friend. "Yeah, I bet we can get tickets cheap!" says another. "We could go tour Columbia while we're there!"

Latter
Scene -- Butler Library. "Must get to copy machines" is running animalistically through my head. It is replaced with "Why traffic move so slow?" as I bump up against the outer fringes of a tour group. I squeeze past the edges, getting my kicks by ogling the prospies. The tour guide says "We won't be going into the stacks to look at the books, but blah blah blah." "Of course you won't go into the stacks!" I think, "Because (insert stack joke of choice here)." Clever Fed article idea slowly percolates.

The Arrival: Former
The friends and I fly to New York over a school break. We tour NYU. Then we spend five days in clubs and record shops. Then we realize we might want to, oh, say, tour our stated destinations.

"Look, I'm delusional!" I tell my friends, and head for Low Library. The Rotunda was deserted, so I turn some cartwheels.

Latter
I get out of class and trudge up the steps to Low. No cartwheels.

Tour Highlights: Former
I flirted with the tour-guide trainee. I was disappointed with the general dearth of attractive underclassmen. The only other thing I remember is a long discussion of the Butler Library mural. I thought about my wonderful, soon-to-come college life.

Latter
I think about my wonderful, soon-to-come-back college life as I trot around campus after the guide. It was, in short, horribly boring. Hope is the opiate of the people on the college tour. Hope for entrance, for success, for some wicked keg parties at their future frat. Hope, and having to stand up, prevents them from falling asleep. Only the fanatical hallucinations of Ivy League grandeur made my original tour so fascinating.

"Is the engineering school easier to get into than the college?" I asked, attempting to liven things up. The guide, with her "numbers can be deceptive" explanation, glided over my crude attempt at tour havoc. I also asked about campus publications - the Spec was characterized as "intense", in a stealing-your-soul-in-addition-to-you-free-time sort of way. The Fed, after some prompting, emerged as "The Federalist... the Federalist. Well, that's more of a satirical thing."

I should have known that my questions wouldn't be any more provoking than those of the prospies themselves. A promising pair of them were very violence focused, prompting the guide to nervously counter that murder and suicide definitely "aren't the norm". I had the candidates for my extra-special after tour.

After the tour: Former
It's all a haze, but I remember running through the fountain in front of Low to surprise my waiting friends. It was empty (or else they would have been a lot more surprised).

Latter
I took the pre-frosh to the stacks, I took them to the giant construction area that is 6th floor Lerner, but I couldn't take them out of the grip of enthusiasm. They obviously regarded my attempt at cynical exposition as a service provided by the Fed's long-term recruitment plan. Things picked up after I plied them with Fed back-issues. One asked if people had sex in the stacks. I was so proud! I explained that sex in Butler was "old school", and sex in Lerner was "new-wave". Maybe they'll put that in their applications!

Maybe not. I don't think I dissuaded or persuaded them of anything. Old Columbia looks pretty good on a tour, especially when it's kind of nippy out and you aren't allowed inside. I suppose you just have to make your decisions based on your approval of the architecture.