"What? No Theme" Week
I come to you, my faithful readers, from the Olin Library, where I am frantically trying to do both yesterday's and today's homework. As you know from Chaz's post, there was a Suite 3100 lockout last night. Of course, all my books and homework were locked in my room.
So here's what happened:
I swear to you, I was just sitting down to do my homework. The film studies screening had kept me out until about 9--the film was Bringing Up Baby, which, if you were wondering, is a terrible film; directorially and cinematographically uninteresting, a nonsensical plot, and some of the most irritating dialogue I've ever come across. But I digress.
I had my Russian notebook out, and I was flipping to the right page when the fire alarm went off, so I dropped everything, grabbed my keys, then went outside. Once outside, I noticed something strange. I felt a cool oval pressed in my palm. I opened my hand to find my housekeys, which might have been useful were I anywhere else but St. Louis.
Folks, I remember it so clearly. When I walked into my room, I put my room and suite keychain right next to my housekey chain, thinking I should really move those housekeys. No reason to have those out. S'only going to cause trouble. Yet I did nothing.
Worse still, when the alarm went off, I sprung from my seat and ran to where my keys were. I held my hand out and thought Two sets of keys. Don't pick up the wrong ones! And yet, somehow, I found myself outside with the wrong set.
The mind reels.
By circumstances that I do not fully understand, my three suitemates also neglected to bring their keys along, and so we found ourselves in the mess that Chaz described for you earlier. I must say, I'm proud (if incredulous) of Chaz's valiant effort to breach the suite. I'm not entirely sure what getting on the roof of Park would have accomplished, but Chaz is a very piecemeal thinker; I'm sure he would have figured something out, had he made it.
I'm afraid that my attempts to get back in the suite were somewhat feeble in comparison. We tried the coathanger trick, which is where one straightens a coathanger, slides it under the door, and tries to hook the inside handle. My dexterity begins and ends with a Nintendo controller, so I wasn't surprised to find the "coathanger trick" nearly impossible. Alfonzo wasn't any better. Chaz chugged some liquor and left to Mission Impossible his way into the suite, which left Alfonzo, Vlad and myself to figure out some way to get inside.
As it turned out, Vlad remembered that his keys were not, in fact, in the suite, but in the room of one of his many female cohorts. Though reluctant, we convinced him that he had to retrieve his keys, and the pants they were in, from her room. He left us with a glare, as if we had exiled him to some barren tundra in northeastern Russia.
It is a shame that Alfonzo and I have such poor relations with Brody's suite; two of Brody's suitemates are up-and-coming lock-pickers. I encouraged Alfonzo to make peace and to ask for their help; he, instead, took a chair from the floor's common room, placed it in front of our door, and proceeded to glower at the knob. As if he had figured out some secret of the lock's mechanism, Alfonzo broke off a piece of the coathanger and began jamming it into the lock.
One of our floormates passed by, muttering something which sent Alfonzo chasing him down the hall with the piece of coathanger. I found him, about an hour later, passed out on his back in the middle of the Swamp. Poor guy, I don't think he's had that much physical activity since he was a kid. I bought him a gatorade and a frozen yogurt and we went back to the suite, passing the detained Chaz on the way. I propped Alfonzo against the door, then fell asleep on a couch in the floor's common room.
When I woke up this morning, Alfonzo was gone and the door was open. I haven't seen him, Vlad or Chaz since going to sleep. If I can finish all this homework off, I should be back in the suite before they all go to bed. Maybe then I can find out what happened.
-Alan
So here's what happened:
I swear to you, I was just sitting down to do my homework. The film studies screening had kept me out until about 9--the film was Bringing Up Baby, which, if you were wondering, is a terrible film; directorially and cinematographically uninteresting, a nonsensical plot, and some of the most irritating dialogue I've ever come across. But I digress.
I had my Russian notebook out, and I was flipping to the right page when the fire alarm went off, so I dropped everything, grabbed my keys, then went outside. Once outside, I noticed something strange. I felt a cool oval pressed in my palm. I opened my hand to find my housekeys, which might have been useful were I anywhere else but St. Louis.
Folks, I remember it so clearly. When I walked into my room, I put my room and suite keychain right next to my housekey chain, thinking I should really move those housekeys. No reason to have those out. S'only going to cause trouble. Yet I did nothing.
Worse still, when the alarm went off, I sprung from my seat and ran to where my keys were. I held my hand out and thought Two sets of keys. Don't pick up the wrong ones! And yet, somehow, I found myself outside with the wrong set.
The mind reels.
By circumstances that I do not fully understand, my three suitemates also neglected to bring their keys along, and so we found ourselves in the mess that Chaz described for you earlier. I must say, I'm proud (if incredulous) of Chaz's valiant effort to breach the suite. I'm not entirely sure what getting on the roof of Park would have accomplished, but Chaz is a very piecemeal thinker; I'm sure he would have figured something out, had he made it.
I'm afraid that my attempts to get back in the suite were somewhat feeble in comparison. We tried the coathanger trick, which is where one straightens a coathanger, slides it under the door, and tries to hook the inside handle. My dexterity begins and ends with a Nintendo controller, so I wasn't surprised to find the "coathanger trick" nearly impossible. Alfonzo wasn't any better. Chaz chugged some liquor and left to Mission Impossible his way into the suite, which left Alfonzo, Vlad and myself to figure out some way to get inside.
As it turned out, Vlad remembered that his keys were not, in fact, in the suite, but in the room of one of his many female cohorts. Though reluctant, we convinced him that he had to retrieve his keys, and the pants they were in, from her room. He left us with a glare, as if we had exiled him to some barren tundra in northeastern Russia.
It is a shame that Alfonzo and I have such poor relations with Brody's suite; two of Brody's suitemates are up-and-coming lock-pickers. I encouraged Alfonzo to make peace and to ask for their help; he, instead, took a chair from the floor's common room, placed it in front of our door, and proceeded to glower at the knob. As if he had figured out some secret of the lock's mechanism, Alfonzo broke off a piece of the coathanger and began jamming it into the lock.
One of our floormates passed by, muttering something which sent Alfonzo chasing him down the hall with the piece of coathanger. I found him, about an hour later, passed out on his back in the middle of the Swamp. Poor guy, I don't think he's had that much physical activity since he was a kid. I bought him a gatorade and a frozen yogurt and we went back to the suite, passing the detained Chaz on the way. I propped Alfonzo against the door, then fell asleep on a couch in the floor's common room.
When I woke up this morning, Alfonzo was gone and the door was open. I haven't seen him, Vlad or Chaz since going to sleep. If I can finish all this homework off, I should be back in the suite before they all go to bed. Maybe then I can find out what happened.
-Alan
posted by Alan Orlanski at 2:08 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home