My freshman dorm was one of the most disgusting places I’ve ever lived. One day in particular stands out from the others.
I was taking a programming class, and four of my classmates were in the same dorm. One of them lived on my hall, up on the third floor. The other two were down on the first floor. The plan was that we’d take turns meeting in each others rooms and working on the group problems for the class.
We’d met in the third floor rooms for two weeks, then I was exposed to the full horror of the first floor.
I think it was early on a Saturday afternoon. We’d been working for a while and I needed to take a break. When I walked into the men’s bathroom I discovered that every possible container was full to the point of overflowing with vomit.
Every toilet. Every urinal. Every sink. Every trash can. Even the shower stalls were overflowing onto the tile floor.
It was one of the most horrifying things I’ve ever seen. Or smelled. I couldn’t imagine what it would take to clean the place up.
But at the same time, I was somehow… impressed.
Whoever had done this had created something horrifying, yet awesome. There was no way the volume of vomit had come from one person. Someone had organized it. They had called up their friends and convinced them that it was a good idea. Perhaps they even supplied the food. Somehow, for some strange reason, they had gone through an amazing amount of work to coordinate an ocean of puke.
I marveled for a while, then returned to the room to tell the others of my discovery.
“Oh yeah.” one of the cellar dwellers said. “I shoulda warned you. People go out and drink in the Arb on Friday and then they can’t find their way up the stairs, so they all wind puking in our bathroom. It’s like this every weekend.”
Ah well. So much for my illusions.