Web’s post on his experiences with athletes and housing reminds me of my freshman year, which Hugh and I spent in Lecter Hall, the “Athletics Dorm” before moving to Greenwood Hall, the “Honors Dorm”.

For the most part it actually wasn’t that bad. Fortunately for Hugh and I we had one another to room with so we only had to deal with suitemates, who weren’t all that bad all things considered. But even so it was always very… loud. Music was always blaring at volumes that we never experienced in Greenwood. And athletes in general are more loud and rambunctious in their behavior than are honors students or even regular college students.

The worst we ever had was actually with a couple of female athletes across the hall. One of the two was a somewhat quiet, studious sort that defied stereotypes and her roommate was a very loud one that conformed to some rather unfortunate stereotypes about African-American women. I don’t know if the two got along generally or not, but I do know that exams were more than they could bear.

Well, more than the quiet one could. Frustrated with the loudmouth’s lack of an “off switch” the quiet one locked her out of her own dorm. At two in the morning this did not go over well either with the loudmouth or with anyone else on the floor. Studious said that she needed to study and Loudmouth said that she needed to sleep. Studious pointed out that Loudmouth never actually seemed to sleep and therefore was suspicious of that rationale for her to be allowed back into the dorm. Loudmouth disagreed with that assessment and simultaneously compared her to a female dog and a vagina, among other things.

This eventually culminated in the UPD* campus police being called. When they arrived the officer and the loudmouth played a game of “Opposite!”

For instance, the loudmouth would say “Oh my god, you did *not* just tell me to be quiet!” by which we ascertained that the police officer had in fact told her the be quiet. The loudmouth said “You did *not* just force me back on the bed” by which she meant that he had, in fact, physically prevented her from standing up. The climax of the game came when she said “Oh, my god, you did *not* just put handcuffs on me!” and “I am *not* going to put up with this” which meant “You just put handcuffs on me” and “Okay, fine, I’ll calm down” respectively.

The whole thing took a couple of hours. I suppose if this is the worst story I have in Lecter Hall it wasn’t too bad. The worst part about it was the social isolation, really, and constant stream of bass coming from one dorm or another at any given time. On the upshot my suitemate left a primo shirt. I tracked one of the suitemates down the following year. He said that the shirt wasn’t his and the guy he roomed with was in jail. So finders, keepers, I still have that shirt today.

* – Presumably they would shorten the name of the police department and drop the “Southern Tech” from it lest Southern Tech University Police Department be shortened to STUPD.