BitterSweet

Completely uninterested in the work at hand, it took a lot to summon up any motivation to even skim through my growing list of assignments soon to be due. After procrastinating for as long as my workaholic disposition would allow, I finally settled in before the glow of the computer screen and began plunking down words. Getting into a groove, it seemed as though my trepidation was for nothing, as the sentences began to flow freely in no time and I was working up a steam, moving towards completion at the speed of lightning. All was looking good… When suddenly a shrill buzzing noise pierced through my concentration, shattering any thought process that might have been useful to writing a comprehensive article. Shaken right down to my toes, I hurried over and opened the door, only to discover that the rude buzzing became louder than the sound of a jet engine cranking at full speed. Seeing other residents rushing out of their rooms and toward the stairwell, it finally clicked that perhaps this was indeed the fire alarm going off, and maybe, just maybe, I should exit the building before I actually saw flames.

Of course, having gone through the mandatory fire drills every month throughout elementary, middle, and high school, I felt no need for real alarm… Until I passed by the second floor on my way out. Thick, grey smoke filled the air and the smell of burning timber permeated through every pore. Moving a little bit faster now, I reached the green courtyard outside to discover that the firemen had already arrived.

Standing tall with his hose at the ready, this strong, brave fireman rushed ahead of the crowd and into the building. Watching his yellow uniform disappear into the smog within, it was then that it hit me; This could be for real. What would happen to my computer, forget about the document still open on the screen? What about my camera? What about my yarn?? Thoroughly immersed within my own panic, only snippets of conversation from the girls around me filtered through: “…happened three times in three days last year…”, “…burnt onions…”, “…oversensitive smoke detectors…”

Regaining some degree of composure, I assured myself that this sort of thing must happen all the time in college dorms, especially when there are 3 kitchens on every floor. Forcing those panicked thoughts down into the pit of my stomach, I waited impatiently for the fearless fire fighter to emerge once more and tell us about the damage.

Exiting the doors with a mischievous smirk on his face, I couldn’t help but be puzzled by what he might find so amusing in all of this. Many girls rushed up and asked him to give it us straight: What was destroyed? Which floor got it worst? But above all, what caused this potential tragedy?

…Turns out that someone just reheated some leftover pizza for a little too long and took it into the “extra crispy” stage, finishing with a nice black exterior and plenty of smoke.

As someone who could be described as the polar opposite of a social butterfly, having so many other people within such close proximity is a new and somewhat disturbing thing. Having a friend drop in with no notice is a wonderful surprise, something I had never experienced before due to a home that was located smack-dab in the middle of nowhere, USA. This would all be well and good, but it seems as if these good friends might be hard to come by, and all too often it’s the inconsiderate jerk who shows up at your door instead.

Come midnight, I tend to enjoy sleeping, but I seem to be the odd man out on campus. Without curfew or parental guidance, I don’t blame these kids for wanting to run free, doing as they wish without a care in the world… But that doesn’t mean that I condone the wild antics I’ve observed in this short week or so. Crazy parties with music blasting out all windows at these typically quiet hours of the night are not such a nice thing, but even worse is when someone goes out of their way to be a nuisance to those who would prefer to actually get some rest. Such was the case when a knock on the door came last night, making for quite a rude awakening.

Oh, look who came by to visit, an old “friend” of mine! Already plastered and looking a bit unsteady on his feet, it might not have even occurred to him what day of the week it was, let alone what time of day. Caught red handed with the bottle of beer still adhered firmly in his iron grip, he burped out a half-way coherent invitation for me to come join the party down the hall. Enticing as that sounded, I gently refused and started closing the door, but this “friend” wouldn’t hear any of it- Who wouldn’t want to party all night and get completely smashed, after all? Settling down as gracefully as a sedated elephant right where he had stood, I couldn’t very well slam the door with this huge, flabby obstruction- I mean, body, right there.

Continuing to plead his case in attempts to pry me out of bed and into the disorienting mix of too many bodies, too much alcohol, and too loud music, things were looking worse and worse by the minute- For the both of us. Eye staying closed for a little bit longer than the standard blink, the booze appeared to finally be getting the best of his already compromised brain. Still, holding on to his previous threat of taking me to the party, I feared there would be no polite way to refuse. Truly, I do still care about this guy… He just needs to learn some manners is all. Lest I lose more friends than I make, I slowly began to put on socks and shoes just to see what all the commotion was about, all the while prepared to make a wild dash back to the safety of my bed after a maximum of 5 minutes. Securing buckles and shoe laces, I looked back to my “friend” to announce that I would give into his pleas just this one time… Only to find that the issue had already resolved itself.

Flat out on his back, he was clearly unfit to do more partying tonight at least! Thankfully for me, the alcohol had gotten the best of him this time- I just hope that he can tone down his voracious appetite for beer next time the am hours roll around.