Some Freshman Thoughts

I was in room 826 in McIntyre Hall. That would be the eighth floor. My roommate was Dan Crane. I got this sheet of paper before I went to school with his address and phone number on it. The university suggested roommates to call each other and square away who is bringing what, like TVs, stereos, DVD players, etc. I called Dan. He was brief and the conversation was awkward. We didn’t do any bit of organizing over the phone. He told me his dad worked for the Rainbow bread company in Torrington, Wyoming.

Dan was my roommate for not even two weeks. He partied every night, missed classes, and slept most of the day away. One day he cautiously threw an idea out, “I think I might end up joining a frat.”

“Oh yeah,” I said.

“Yeah. Maybe Sigma Nu.”

“If you joined would you be able to move into the house this semester?”

“Yes. I would be able to move in next week.”

Using all the effort in me to refrain from jumping up and down and screaming I said, “That’s cool.”

Dan moved out. I even saw him some last fall. He did end up graduating, much to my surprise. I now had a double room to myself. I pushed the beds together to the right side of the wall. I should have stacked them like I did later on when I was a Junior, but I thought maybe two extra long twin beds would be like a king size bed. I was wrong. I slept on the first mattress and used the second one as a soft oversized night table to place books and a light one. I had to prop my head up with all my pillows because there was no wall to lean against.

I had the old Gateway back then. Earlier this summer, an old man picked it up at a garage sale for free. I don’t know what he was planning to do with that artifact, but in my head I held a little funeral for it as he loaded it into his 1970s sky blue Ford pickup. Something so arbitrary—a computer—held in it so many memories of those first two and a half years of college. The old man would never know what words were passed along from that screen, what words were received, and what thoughts were only halfway completed before I deleted them. I guess, that Gateway, held in it some innocence of a younger age, or outlook if you will. The last of the second-hand collegiate necessities that was not always second-hand.

My television was encased in cheap, plastic wood paneling. I didn’t have a remote. Cable was free in the dorms, but I couldn’t get anything above channel thirty. I needed a special connection to hook up my Nintendo 64. The DVD player couldn’t plug in and I thought either the TV or the Gamecube were going to blow up when I first powered up both of them. The TV died before the spring semester was out. This wasn’t the most unfortunate event. It did mean that if I wanted a new one I would have to spend my own money. I was willing to do that. I upgraded going into my sophomore year with a 27” Philips flat screen. The Philips is in my room now. It is a great television, even if I gave Wal-Mart the money for it.

Not being able to hook up the DVD player didn’t stop me from bringing my DVDs to school. My friend in a room right below me had a DVD player and I often went down there to watch my movies on his player while he was out with his girlfriend. This was a regular occurrence. Somewhat depressing, but hey, it was college. I say that like I have been removed from this lifestyle for so long when really as I write this a part of me wishes I was still in Laramie going through another year of undergraduate courses.

Every other floor of McIntyre Hall had really short hallways. I am not your average sized man, but ceilings should not be lower than 6’9” at least. I would like to see a 7 foot minimum. I had to time my strides when walking down the hall to my dorm room so I wouldn’t be under a fire alarm, sprinkler, or exit sign when I was on an up stride. I went the whole year without scalping myself. What an accomplishment.

The fire drills and false alarms were annoying. The elevators lock automatically and everyone has to take the stairs. Waking a hall of college students at 3:30 am is not a good idea. Those that are awake are piss drunk. Those that are asleep have just passed out, or there are some that actually went to bed by natural means and plan on awakening before noon the next day. I was in this last category. Most of the students quietly stood around in the frigid air of a Laramie night waiting for the LFD to show up and clear the building. The really drunk ones passed out in itchy and prickly bushes until the morning. They were always too drunk to know the difference between sleeping in a yucca plant next to the hall and sleeping in the standard issue extra long twin. Others strolled away toward another dorm. Maybe they were going to sleep with a buddy or to fall asleep on one of the lobby couches in Orr or Downey. I stood around. I stood around waiting for something to happen. Usually something did. The firemen would come down with the culprits in tow who pulled the alarm or launched fireworks from their dorm room window. I was happy to see them caught. Those punks robbed me of forty-five minutes of sleep and I have to swim at 5:30 am.