At the end of sophomore year of college, my roommates and I had back luck that turned out to be the best luck. The bad luck was picking low card in th

College For All Is Bad For Boys

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2024-10-20 03:30:03

At the end of sophomore year of college, my roommates and I had back luck that turned out to be the best luck. The bad luck was picking low card in the housing draw, relegating us to annex housing in the attic of a freshman dorm. But the bug – housing Siberia, five flights of stairs, no adult supervision – turned out to be a feature. Chris C., MacGyver among us, installed a TV antenna on the roof just in time to watch Sinead O’Connor rip up a photo of Pope John Paul II on Saturday Night Live, prompting Alex, a devout Catholic, to spit on the television screen. With the help of General Electric’s appliance helpline, Chris D., a pitcher on his high school baseball team, figured out how to make our freezer produce unending frost so he could launch snowballs from our eyrie, startling Chapel St. pedestrians on hot days. But only Mr. Pants took full advantage of both our remote location and captive audience.

Mr. Pants was a pair of Chris C.’s jeans that he stuffed with newspaper, attached socks and shoes, then rigged with wire to dangle in a lifelike manner. The freshmen downstairs thought someone was dangling outside their window and called the campus police. But in Mr. Pants’ dramatic final act, Chris C. found a chair with an open back that Dave could kneel behind with Mr. Pants laid out before him – fake legs and feet looking very much like Dave’s own. That evening, Chris C. descended a few flights and returned with a line of freshmen willing to bear witness to “an important experiment.”