0308.30
20:47:27
LOSS
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So, what’s up with this dorm thing, anyway?
Today was by no means a day I would consider ‘enjoyable’ in the least. Certainly, it didn’t start off on the right appendage, as I awoke at about 12:15 to the sounds of repeated slamming noises on my room door. After putting on my robe and finding my umbrella — which makes perfect sense as a weapon when one is mostly asleep — I opened the door to find a large rope manufactured from duct tape attached to it, and some moron trying to explain to me that it’s just a joke and he was having fun. At a quarter past twelve in the morning. On my door. Folks, if you haven’t yet read “How NOT to Piss Ben Off” (iaatbpress, ISBN-not-really, MSRP $PAN.TS), I really suggest you do. Anyhow, here’s the relevant passage:
I think I woke up about noonish, and got ready to do my laundry. Dan came over mentioned the he was going to go do his, so we decided to do ours together. He also wanted to show me some pictures he’d taken with his digital camera, and when he went to put them on his computer we realized that his ‘Net connection was finally working, so he spent about an hour emailing, etc., which was fine by me.
Right as we’re about to leave, Lance walks in, and says he’s about to do his laundry and asks if we want to do ours with him. Okey pokes. He takes about a half hour to put everything of his together, so it’s about two o’clock when we get to the East Laundromat (I assume there’s one on the western end of campus; that may or may not be the case, however). We decide to save on coinage by doing all our clothes together– everyone wears different sizes and styles of clothes anyhow, so it’s not like stuff will get mixed up. Atfer we get the first loads of stuff in washers, Dan and I poke around and Lance goes back to installing a new stereo in his car. Hours pass. Time stops having any meaning in the hot, humid little blockhouse of a laundromat. I’m hungry — I hadn’t eaten anything at all– so I go over to the snack machine to get some cheez-its. I put in a dollar, don’t get any change for the 60-cent-price. The corkscrew dispenser begins operating, and stops right as the package is about to fall out– A corner of it is still stuck on the backage behind it. I bang on the machine, shake it, nearly beat my head into it in frustration. The back shakes, but doesn’t fall. Dan has some change, and puts in another 60 cents. Fortunately, both bags fall. A measly 20 cheez-its or so. Half of them at least partially crushed.
Lance and his car have both dispaeared completely by the drying stage. After it’s done, Dan and I sort out the clothes, half-heartedly fold our own cloths, stuff Lance’s in his back, and lug them back over to the dorm. It starts raining.
So, I’m locked out, because I’ve left my keys in Lance’s car. I sit around in Dan’s room until lance get’s back with them, and then come in mine and fold my laundry. More hours pass. The old people call, asking me how my day was. Blah. I realize I need food.
The problem is, however, it’s the weekend. The caf closes at 6:30. It’s still raining– my suitemates are MIA and my roommate Ivan is off doing his laundry. I need food, and I don’t have a car. I know Megan does, but I don’t have her number. I try Luke– he’s always got a plan. Busy signal. I try Andrea, she’s pretty cute, you know, or something — she’s also, and, at least in the situation, more importantly, got a car — but I get her roommate instead. Because I’m functionally inept when it comes to talking on the phone, I decline to leave a message.
I spent a few minutes with Steven and Zach across the hall, and told them of some of my plight. Steven gave me a Jolly Rancher. Sweet, sweet carbohydrates. I opended up my crate of Goldfish and had a few of them, too, as I avoided the chair-jousting going on out in the hallway. Ivan got back about 8 o’clock or so. He’s been talking on the phone in Spanish on and off since then.
I know it’s getting late, but if by some strange occurance you’re here at school reading my website and have some access to foodstuffs of a general sort, please call me at extension 8798. Hopefully you won’t get a busy signal.
Today was by no means a day I would consider ‘enjoyable’ in the least. Certainly, it didn’t start off on the right appendage, as I awoke at about 12:15 to the sounds of repeated slamming noises on my room door. After putting on my robe and finding my umbrella — which makes perfect sense as a weapon when one is mostly asleep — I opened the door to find a large rope manufactured from duct tape attached to it, and some moron trying to explain to me that it’s just a joke and he was having fun. At a quarter past twelve in the morning. On my door. Folks, if you haven’t yet read “How NOT to Piss Ben Off” (iaatbpress, ISBN-not-really, MSRP $PAN.TS), I really suggest you do. Anyhow, here’s the relevant passage:
Some simple guides on how not to piss Ben off:Fortunately, Dan came out and told everybody in the hall to go back to bed — I guess his drowsy state allows him access to his post-hunter-gatherer thought processes — since he could tell the guy was pushing my buttons and getting ready to turn both sets of keys to initiate Defcon 1. He’s since come over and appologized, which is nice, you know.
1. Don’t wake Ben up. Seriously. I don’t care if he did tell you to. Just, like, figure out something else to do.
Note: If you really have to wake Ben up, at least keep a barrier or reasonable distance between you and him. Consider yourself warned.
I think I woke up about noonish, and got ready to do my laundry. Dan came over mentioned the he was going to go do his, so we decided to do ours together. He also wanted to show me some pictures he’d taken with his digital camera, and when he went to put them on his computer we realized that his ‘Net connection was finally working, so he spent about an hour emailing, etc., which was fine by me.
Right as we’re about to leave, Lance walks in, and says he’s about to do his laundry and asks if we want to do ours with him. Okey pokes. He takes about a half hour to put everything of his together, so it’s about two o’clock when we get to the East Laundromat (I assume there’s one on the western end of campus; that may or may not be the case, however). We decide to save on coinage by doing all our clothes together– everyone wears different sizes and styles of clothes anyhow, so it’s not like stuff will get mixed up. Atfer we get the first loads of stuff in washers, Dan and I poke around and Lance goes back to installing a new stereo in his car. Hours pass. Time stops having any meaning in the hot, humid little blockhouse of a laundromat. I’m hungry — I hadn’t eaten anything at all– so I go over to the snack machine to get some cheez-its. I put in a dollar, don’t get any change for the 60-cent-price. The corkscrew dispenser begins operating, and stops right as the package is about to fall out– A corner of it is still stuck on the backage behind it. I bang on the machine, shake it, nearly beat my head into it in frustration. The back shakes, but doesn’t fall. Dan has some change, and puts in another 60 cents. Fortunately, both bags fall. A measly 20 cheez-its or so. Half of them at least partially crushed.
Lance and his car have both dispaeared completely by the drying stage. After it’s done, Dan and I sort out the clothes, half-heartedly fold our own cloths, stuff Lance’s in his back, and lug them back over to the dorm. It starts raining.
So, I’m locked out, because I’ve left my keys in Lance’s car. I sit around in Dan’s room until lance get’s back with them, and then come in mine and fold my laundry. More hours pass. The old people call, asking me how my day was. Blah. I realize I need food.
The problem is, however, it’s the weekend. The caf closes at 6:30. It’s still raining– my suitemates are MIA and my roommate Ivan is off doing his laundry. I need food, and I don’t have a car. I know Megan does, but I don’t have her number. I try Luke– he’s always got a plan. Busy signal. I try Andrea, she’s pretty cute, you know, or something — she’s also, and, at least in the situation, more importantly, got a car — but I get her roommate instead. Because I’m functionally inept when it comes to talking on the phone, I decline to leave a message.
I spent a few minutes with Steven and Zach across the hall, and told them of some of my plight. Steven gave me a Jolly Rancher. Sweet, sweet carbohydrates. I opended up my crate of Goldfish and had a few of them, too, as I avoided the chair-jousting going on out in the hallway. Ivan got back about 8 o’clock or so. He’s been talking on the phone in Spanish on and off since then.
I know it’s getting late, but if by some strange occurance you’re here at school reading my website and have some access to foodstuffs of a general sort, please call me at extension 8798. Hopefully you won’t get a busy signal.
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