On the outside, I’m a good, nice guy. I go to most of my classes, I hold the door open for the… On the outside, I’m a good, nice guy. I go to most of my classes, I hold the door open for the ladies, I smile at people in the street and I keep my room clean. The last one’s a lie, but the point remains: I’m more or less normal. Really. But every Tuesday, at around 8:55 at night, I transform into something evil, something otherworldly. At 8:55 on Tuesday evenings, I don’t care about social etiquette or being a “nice guy.”

“Scrubs” is on in five minutes, and come heaven or hell, I will fight my way to a television by 9 p.m. sharp.

Of course, I’m not alone. On any given day, people are scrambling home to watch “Lost,” “24” or “Desperate Housewives.” This brings up an interesting question – a character-defining question, really: How far will people go to watch their favorite TV show?

Since I’m the most important person in my life, I’ll use my example. Come Sunday night, my mind knows that salvation is a mere 48 hours away. So for the next two days, my mind basically shuts down. Lectures and conversations are interrupted by my own philosophical musings, which include profound thoughts like, “Scrubs. Scrubs. Whoa, she’s hot. Scrubs.”

So when my best friend told me last Tuesday, in a voice that one usually reserves for deaths in the family and romantic breakups, that the State of the Union was airing at nine, my first thought wasn’t one of patriotic pride or marvel at our democratic traditions; it was despair, a cold and dark claw clutching at my heart. What right did the State of the Union have to intrude on my personal happy hour? Don’t get me wrong, I think the State of the Union is an integral part of our democracy, but faced with the prospects of missing “Scrubs,” I wasn’t thinking straight. I plead insanity on this one. Anyhow, I watched, somewhat glumly – understatement of the year – as President Bush addressed the nation, and I vowed to march on Washington and protest this travesty as soon as the weather got warmer.

But given the opportunity, I will bend space and time to watch my TV show. I’ve actually done homework on time, managed my time and studied ahead of time. “Scrubs,” in many ways, actually made me a better person – kind of. I say kind of, because sometimes life isn’t predictable. Last Tuesday – the same day that I was betrayed by NBC – a mandatory meeting was scheduled by an organization that will here remain unnamed. Did I take it like a man and abandon my TV show?

Yeah right. I screamed, I yelled, I pleaded, I begged, I compromised and I got the meeting moved to Thursday.

I don’t have a television in my room, so I’ve sort of commandeered my best friend’s, who by chance – or clever manipulation, on my part – is also a “Scrubs” addict. He has a roommate who – oh why, why, why? – doesn’t get the same kick out of “Scrubs” as we do. Who are we? The Scrubs Army, which regularly invades his room on Tuesdays and possibly weekends if we’re feeling nostalgic. That’s when we bring out Seasons One and Two DVDs.

Anything goes in these kinds of situations. Am I crazy? Yes, I am, just like half the campus population. People literally schedule their classes around TV shows. I’ve seen them ditch class – “doctor’s appointment, I’m sorry Professor” – to watch “Lost.” I’ve been at the receiving end of a “Laguna Beach” coup, in which all the guys were exiled and subsequently barricaded from the lounge.

College students, by and large, are oppressed people. We must eat what we are served, our income is limited or non-existent, we are helpless in the deluges of tests and term papers, we live in rooms smaller than most jail cells. We endure, however, taking every blow, by telling ourselves that one day, it will all be worth it.

But when our shows are taken from us, we react in ways that nobody can predict. Our primal, most instinctive urges are unleashed, and we are capable of many, many, otherwise demonical things.

So heaven help you if you are in my way at 8:58 p.m., this Tuesday evening.

E-mail Ravi at [email protected] to tell him how great “Scrubs” is. Any other e-mails will be immediately deleted.