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A million miles from civilization.

People are not counted among my favorite things, so I was naturally very excited at the prospect of meeting my roommate. The fact that I was headed to Simkins, the testosterone saturated dormitory located as far away from everything as possible, simply added to my enthusiasm. Only the front door was locked with a card mechanism. I assumed that none of the interior hallways were locked--as they were in Jester--because the risk of "bro rape" was either so small it was negligible or so high they gave up on preventative efforts.

Either one is okay, I guess. But kind of not.

The first thing I noticed when I walked into my hall was the RA's information board. Normally, these boards have information regarding moving in, student health, and campus organizations. Not this one. This one had information exclusively regarding penises. Penises and masturbation.

I continued down the hall.

The only Franklin I've ever known was a turtle who wore a hat, so my mental image of my roommate is--potentially--a bit off. Luckily, he wasn't there. It was obvious he had moved in, albeit sparsely. He seemed to have the bare necessities on his side of the room. He had a large poster of Casablanca and a smaller one of Sonny Rollins on the wall over his bed. He can't be that bad, I guess. I picked up the Emergency Situations brochure and dropped it in the garbage bin.

I locked the door and walked out, past the penis board. It's just one semester.

Comments

Spen said…
didn't know you had a blog man! Good luck with this new dorm etc...and I expect a full post on your roomie. Remember first impressions- you have to subdue him early.
January 15, 2009 at 11:31 PM
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