Now Pritchard Hall is a big dorm. At the time, it was the biggest non-military all-male dorm on the east coast, though it has since had to allow women in. It was big enough that there was actually a courtyard, so that people who lived in the inner loop could get a window. It was called The Pit, and various mischief commenced with it.
For instance, there was Horn Boy. He would let off his horn…. brooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowp. Never long enough to get caught. I remember the last day of year one, and someone saying into The Pit, “I’m gonna miss you, horn boy.”
Another thing we did was attach my pitch-shifter guitar pedal to Dan C’s P.A., and yell into the pit with pitch-shifted voices. I even heard them telling us once, “Yeah, there’s somebody with a P.A. out there.” Haha.
So, my second year at 1044 Pritchard (1993-1994), we had a new R.A. The R.A. from the first year was pretty cool. But this guy was a total pussy. I mean total. Like, he had trouble talking loud enough that you could even hear him. And he was a Christian. And he was small. And he did not have the personality of someone who would boss people around.
So at some point, we took my speakers, which were pretty large:
And Mohamad O and I blasted the Scooby Doo theme song into the pit. With our lights off.
We did this by each holding one of these huge speakers up to the window. BAM. A knock on our door.
We freak out, since we were the guilty party, and it was also kind of weird that we had our light off, as if we were hiding.
Pussy R.A. (I don’t even remember his name) came to our door. “Now guys. We heard something like the Scooby Doo theme blasting into the pit here. We just wanted to make sure it wasn’t you.” I mean, VERY non-confrontational, non-committal, and still not quite loud enough to really HEAR him. He was laughably wussy, and just the kind of R.A. you want around if you want to do stupid shit.
We laughed our asses off, knowing that he didn’t have the balls to do anything about it. I mean, they couldn’t prove anything at that point anyway. But a real douche of an R.A. could still make things annoying.
Like the one we just called “Prick”. I believe he was a blonde douchebag of an R.A. on the second floor. I still remember Diane and I accidentally setting off the local fire alarm right outside his door, and her dropping her ID at the scene. And still, somehow, we were immune to any punishment.
I got away with a LOT in that dorm room. I also pretended to be an R.A. and pretended to bust other people in another dorm room.
Good times, good times.