Our Worst-Ever Dorm Stories
Think your dorm mate stealing your stash of Clif bars is bad? We have you BEAT! Check out these real life tales from the Sparkitor/Splogger collective...
Josh Sorokach: During sophomore year I developed a crush on the girl next door. Very original, I know. I decided to take the responsible, mature approach and express my feelings through an open and honest conversation. Just kidding. Instead of professing my love, I filled the bottom of her bed and the inside of her pillowcase with copious amounts of shaving cream. If she had pigtails I imagine I also would have pulled them. A couple of weeks later my parents came to visit to witness the new journey their baby boy had embarked upon. When we walked into my dorm room we found the entire room covered in toilet paper and the words "303 Rules" predominantly spelled out in maxi pads across our wall (she lived in room 303). Ah, young love. I eventually did confess my love to this girl. At a Halloween party. Dressed as a woman. Wearing her bra. That girl is now my wife. Just kidding. She dumped me after two months.
Emily Winter: My freshman year roommate already had a new boyfriend on the day we moved into the dorm. She had met him at orientation earlier that summer. On my FIRST NIGHT in college, she locked me out of my room so she could make out with her boyfriend. I was in pajamas and had bare feet. After pounding on the door, she told me to go stay in my friend's room, who lived in a different tower of the same building. The second I stepped in the elevator, I was like, "OH HELL NO." The elevator floor was covered in pee, and I was standing in it. The doors closed in front of me.
RG Daniels: When I was a freshman I lived in a dorm that housed only 18 students. It was designated as "quiet housing" for students wishing to focus hard on their studies, so a noise curfew was in place during the week. We were not allowed to play loud music or carry on like most college students, especially between the hours of 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. Because I was a freshman, I was still getting acclimated to college life. I didn't want to—in any way—disrupt the system or draw unwanted attention. One night, around two in the morning, while poring over notes in my room, I reached for a bag of microwavable popcorn—a 5-star classic in the pantheon of dorm room snacks. In my zombified state (due to studying for a wicked psychology midterm coming up), I read the instructions (barely), tossed the bag into the microwave, and mushed a random sequence of numbers on the keypad with my fingers. As I filled my head with the practices of Skinner and Pavlov I completely forgot about my impending treat—that is, until the room began to fill with the stench of burning kernels. Smoke slowly began to permeate the room. I managed to stop the microwave before setting the place ablaze and becoming a top story on the local newscast, but… I could not stop the fire alarm. As everyone woke up to the most jarring and abrasive sound known to mankind (not including dubstep) there was nothing I could do but grab my coat, and exit the building like they taught us during a fire drill at orientation. Eighteen students stood outside in the bitter cold, waiting for the RA to settle things with the fire department, some in nothing more than slippers and boxer shorts. I kept my head down, afraid to admit I was the one who set off the alarm.
Josh Perilo: My freshman roommate was a film student. They were notorious partiers. He came home drunk EVERY NIGHT. And one night, at 3 am, our door flew open, he flipped on the lights, took down his pants, and started peeing into the sink. Which was five feet from my face. He then turned around and fell asleep on the tile floor until 1 pm the next day. I politely asked him not to pee in the sink in front of me again.
Janet Manley: My dorm mates were always wanting to watch British cop shows and eating pate, which I find offensive as both a vegetarian and as an amateur sculptor (pate shapes are so lazy). Meanwhile, they were always complaining about the mess around my bed and leaving passive-aggressive notes around the house that said things like, "Happy birthday, darling. Love, Mum and Dad." I should mention: I lived at home during university.
What is your worst dorm experience?