Santa Cruz, California, USA
Elsewhere, I’ve mentioned that House 2 at Stevenson College is a house of, well, no repute. I don’t believe that I know anyone there, I’ve never heard of anything interesting going on in there, I’ve never heard it mentioned in conversation, overall, I haven’t heard a peep come out of that place. For all I know, it could be completely empty or reserved for devout Catholics.
That all changed tonight.
I was studying for my upcoming stats midterm when I heard whooping, hollering, and screaming girlish chaos coming from somewhere outside. I stuck my head out and saw that House 2’s lounge had the blinds all the way down. Multicolored spinning disco lights were illuminating the transluscent blinds and standard issue house music laid a rhythmic background for the raucous squealing from the girls. This I had to see.
Shoes, jacket, keys, and I’m outside. A healthy assortment of youths from my house are playing hackey-sack in the quad. They share my curiosity about House 2’s sudden awakening. I walk up to the door and get let in by this dour-faced betrenchcoated nerd I’ve seen stalking around campus a few times before. The little window on the door to the festive lounge has been covered up so I approach it to get a peek through a clear spot. That’s when the useless would-be guardian begins his pointed questioning in an attempt to make me feel unwelcome. “Wha wha … hey … what are you doing here?” Without even looking at him I say, “I’m taking a look at what’s going on in here.” “Hey … you know someone … um … you live around here?” “Yeah, I’m from House 3 – hahhaha oh man, what a party!” “Wha – wha what’s your name?” I tell him and ask “what’s going on in there?” “It’s a, um, private function.” “Yeah, I can tell – what’s your name anyway?” “William, I’m the RA”. I couldn’t help but laugh at his feeble attempt at intimidation. Feeling a little like Al Swearengen vs. Calamity Jane in Season 1, Episode 2 of Deadwood, I walk out of there, my curiosity satisfied.
What I saw in that lounge, folks, was several screaming girls gathered around a hairless, muscular young man with nothing but a burgundy satin g-string on. He was gyrating his hips over a girl who was laying on the ground and enjoying herself tremendously. Although the exact song wasn’t playing, I do believe that they were partying like it was that girl’s birthday.
After informing my friends in the quad, a contingent of girls ran to the lounge’s window to have a peek for themselves. It’s nice to know that the girls have a healthy taste for men (unlike a certain Miss Priss in my hall who was quoted on someone else’s whiteboard as saying “Penises are ugly” – heh, how sad it must’ve been for her when she found out that guys look nothing like Ken dolls).
While all this was happening, impotent William stormed out of the house in a huff and went away. We all had a hearty laugh at his expense and called for him to come to us. Maybe he was heading to his forest perch for his nightly reenactments of scenes from “The Crow”.
