Winter Songs

Freshman Year II

This is not to say that I too wasn’t becoming a drinker. I didn’t however drink, chug and otherwise abuse myself, but one of the girls next door, Pam, was a former bartender. When we went out to a bar, she did the ordering. However, the taste of alcohol is so vile, that no matter how she disguised it, I never enjoyed drinking the battery acid. So I would drink screwdrivers and seabreezes, drinks designed to be sweet and desceptively alcoholic. Fortunately, before going to our rooms to pass out, we learned to drink a large cup of water, along with a aspirin, so that in the morning, whatever lethal effects the alcohol might have, there was no hangover.

One Saturday night one of the guys down the hall had a party. Basically there was loud music, lots of alcohol and far too many people in this small room. However, it was the thing to do. We were all standing around, laughing, chatting, drinking and otherwise being teenagers. Suddenly in walked Frankenstein. Every head turned as he made his way into the room. He just stood there, listening to the conversations and the laughter.

Someone offered him a drink, and he accepted it. Eventually placing the untouched drink down on a table. Later someone offered him a cigarette and again he took it. He held the lit cigarette unsure what to do. Eventually he leaned over and put it out into the rug.

That Sunday, after the place had been cleaned and deloused, they noticed the burn in the rug and were outraged. However, how do you get recourse from someone with bolts in his neck?

The University in its attempt to sweep the roommate situation as far under the rug as possible, did nothing. However, with phone calls from home and constant complaining from me, they soon scheduled some kind of meeting. My roomies father drove up from Staten Island, a five hour drive, and was ‘talked to’ by the dorm director. He stayed long enough for the meeting, and to drop off another case of 7up by our room. He then travelled the 5 hours home.

The following day I was told to go see a University social worker. He spent an hour trying to convince me that it was in my best interest to move out of the room and to leave the problem behind. I countered with the fact that HE (my roommate) was the outcast and that I had friends on the hall. Although he couldn’t say it, I know this social worker saw my point of view. With little else they could do, it was finally announced that my roommate was leaving the room.

It seems that another pariah existed on the second floor. Rather than move me to live with yet another basket case, they put the two of them together. Apparently he too liked 7up and handheld electronic games, or maybe he just liked boys from Staten Island. In any case, I was now in a single!

The Thanksgiving recess was coming and the University didn’t seem to mind my living in a large open room, alone. I certainly wasn’t complaining. Things on the hall went back to normal, and I could once again receive visitors, without handing out blindfolds. It wasn’t until we came back at the end of November that I had to find a new roommate. At the far end of the hall (the dorm was in the shape of a large L) was a huge lounge. Living in that lounge were six guys, all of whom were in ‘extended housing’ which was University language for, “ooops, we don’t have room for you.” I went down to this room and announced, “I have ½ a room for anyone who wants it. You guys fight it out, and the winner come down to 719.”

I’m not sure what ensued but eventually, Dave showed up. He was Asian, and a very hard worker. He not only had school to deal with, but he had to work on campus to help pay for his tuition. He ‘hawked’ hot dogs at various games, and worked in the ‘Snack-Shack’ downstairs, and well, I didn’t see the guy that often. It was perfect.

The rest of the year went smoothly. We’d party together, eat together, go see movies and generally were very close. Syracuse is known for its Basketball team, and with the brand new Carrier Dome now opened, it was to be the team’s first year in this giant stadium. We drew lots and it was decided that two of us would wait on line outside the Dome, waiting for tickets. Then later, at 2-3am, 2 guys would show up and wait until the box office opened at 8am and buy tickets for us all.

As luck would have it, I drew the short straw and that night, went over to the dorm wearing as much flannel as possible. I had on three or four layers of clothing, however it was below freezing and sitting there in line with all of the other short-straw-drawers, we were freezing. We had the good idea to bring bottles with us, and the booze did help us to feel warmer. However, like a Jack London story, we slowly feel asleep in the midst of this cold. We were awakened hours later by the relief crew who took up vigil. We were cold, stiff and yet overjoyed at the prospect of a hot shower.

That season we sat several rows up behind the team. It was wonderful, and something I’ll never do again. However that is college, and you’re supposed to act like an idiot.

Posted by bbrother at May 14, 2005 12:14 AM