Nahmsayin’

Rez High

OpinionsAlex Mcgill — Published March 14, 2011

I get it. I did the res thing. It was cool to knock on people’s doors at all hours, to have zero personal space, to stumble home drunkenly screaming every night of the week (weekends are for suckers). But there is a one-year window for those shenanigans.

This past Wednesday, my roommate was awoken at 2:30 a.m. by our belligerent female upstairs neighbor.

She knocked on our door so urgently and for so long (until one of us had risen from our sleep and walked to the door) that my roommate thought perhaps someone was dead or dying.

Once she opened the door, the inebriated girl leaned against our doorframe and slurred, “Do you have any rolling papers?” Prompting my roommate to reply, “Are you fucking kidding me?” before slamming the door in the girl’s confused face.

The following night I was awoken to her yelling in the hallways about how high she was, giggling with some sort of male companion and trudging up and down stairs like an elephant at 4:30 in the morning.

To all of this, I must respond: party your asses off every night of the week if you want, I don’t give a shit. But girl, you have never met me before in your life. This isn’t residence anymore; I could have been an 80-year-old man for all you know. Or you could have woken up my other roommate, who surely would have punched you straight in your drunk-out-of-your-mind face.