Sunday, July 17, 2005

Someday I Won't Live in a Residence Hall Anymore

I haven't been sleeping well all summer. I've narrowed the reasons down to three sources: a rickety bunk bed from the Ford administration (whenever I climb up to bed I feel the whole thing shake, and the feeling that your bed might collapse is not exactly an ideal sleeping environment); my room this summer looks out over Grand Avenue, Laramie's busiest street, and at any given moment there are three or four diesel duellie pickups racing (I'm thoroughly convinced that the size of a man's tires is inversely proportional to the size of his penis); and worse, my window faces south – it's just plain goddamn hot in there.

Wow. That's one sentence.

Anyway, so I haven't been sleeping well at all this summer, but Thursday night was the topper. I covered someone's shift from 10pm until 2am Friday morning, and at 5am the cops knocked on my door.

"You're an RA, right?" one of them asked. He's a good guy, funny as hell, and when you're an RA it pays to make nicey-nice with the cops. So while a part of me was instantly curious and intuitively helpful, another part of me wasn't cool with being woken up at 5 in the morning.

"Yeah," I said, bleary.

"Come here for a second. You won't believe this," he said. He had the kind of bemused grin that's reserved for cops, medical professionals, and teachers.

He led me to a "study room" on my floor, which is basically a ten by six room sectioned off from the lobby. Each study room has windows that look out on the small section of pavement and flower beds between Downey Hall and Washakie Cafeteria. He pointed his flashlight straight down.

"Look down there," he said.

Six floors below, in the middle of a flower bed, was a shattered window. Someone threw a fucking window out the window? Are you fucking kidding me?

"It came from right here," the cop said. He pointed to the now-empty window frame. Then he pointed at the ashes on the window ledge. "We think they were up here smoking and somehow either threw or knocked the window out."

Well, no shit. We'd had the biggest thunderstorm of the year earlier in the night, so the ashes happened sometime between 9pm Thursday and – Jesus, what time is it now?

"Okay," I said. "I might wait to write this one up until tomorrow, though," I said. Anytime a wise RA interacts with the cops – anytime at all – the wise RA will write up an incident report.

"You mean this morning," the cop said. "What time do you have to get up?"

"Six thirty."

"In an hour and a half? Have fun with this one."

So I was a little out of it on Friday in class, but caught a great nap that afternoon. Saturday I lounged around a great deal. Today I'm working from 2-10, but between a few projects and papers to be working on, I have plenty to do.


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