« Experiment: Day Twenty-Two | Main | Experiment: Day Twenty-Four »
May 27, 2008
Experiment: Day Twenty-Three
So, a week or so ago, Keith and I watched an episode of The Big Bang Theory (the best sitcom launched in the Fall 2007 TV season, and one that--thankfully--came back after the WGA strike) wherein the major plot point was a surprise birthday party. There's planning. There's problems. Hilarity ensues. You know.
Anyway, I got to thinking about one of the two or three surprise parties I've ever been "in on" (oh, and in case anyone thinks it would be fun to throw me a surprise party? Don't. Sooo not interested in that. Nope) and proceeded to tell Keith the story of Rachel Camp's 18th birthday party, held at Reed Hall on the University of Georgia campus.
Rachel and I had been roommates for a couple of weeks. Freshman year. Luck of the draw. Yeah, we both knew people we could've requested shacking with, but we both wanted to start fresh at college and see who we might end up getting to know. Me: Honor student on scholarship from Atlanta. She: party girl from Jasper, GA (a town with one red-light). But we totally got along. Even lived together for part of our Sophomore year. It was a good match.
Anyway, her birthday was just a smidge into our freshman year and something had to be done. We were tired of hitting Milledge Ave. for frat parties and no one had thrown a really good dorm party yet, even though we lived on the co-ed floor and all of our best guy friends were upperclassmen who always bought us booze. (Eventually, they would throw GREAT parties. I still recall fondly [most of] the 1989 Spring Fling.)
I sent Rachel to whatever movie was playing at the Tate Center, along with Stephanie and--dammit, what was his name? Yan? I can't remember--that guy she was dating already. Stephanie had broken her ankle in one of our intramural flag football games (we were soooooo badass), so she was on crutches, and her boyfriend was very sweet and took good care of her. Anyway, we sent the three of them to the movie and decorated the crap out of the third floor of Reed Hall as the traveling team hit the market and the package store for the good stuff.
After about an hour, it was time to pull off the surprise.
I called the ticket window of the movie theater--certainly manned by some fellow freshman not lucky enough to be on scholarship--and told him we had to get one of the patrons at the show OUT of that movie theater. NOW! I told him there had been a break-in at our dorm and several of the rooms had been hit. Rachel Camp and Stephanie... whatever her last name was... would need to come back to the dorm to report to the police what was missing from their rooms.
Of course, this is college town fun in 1988. They stopped the movie, turned up the house lights, asked for Rachel Camp to identify herself, and then--after a slow-clap from the audience as Rachel exited the theater--started the movie back up for the 250 people who remained seated.
Now, what made this *really* fun was that we never let Stephanie in on the plan. She was sure her room had been hit too. So as she hobbled back to the dorm on crutches, she was bitching her New England ass off. I could hear her coming up the stairs just swearing like a Patriot and I giggled all the more.
SURPRISE!
We all yelled as Rachel rounded the corner from the stairwell, and a wonderful party was enjoyed by all. It was awesome. And clever. And--now that I look back on it--totally and completely ridiculous.
People get arrested for pulling stunts like that. Or at least they get in trouble on campus, lose their scholarships, go on probation. Something.
It was a completely risky thing to do, but at the wise old age of 18 myself, how could I possibly know?
And luckily, it either didn't matter enough or wasn't "risky" enough in anyone else's mind to BECOME a big deal. It was, eventually, a tale on campus about "the night the movie stopped because of a break-in that never happened." And when anyone learned the punchline that the reason for that prank was to throw a great party, it always got even bigger "yippee" cheers.
As I told Keith the story, I both laughed like the kid I was back then and sighed over having become the adult I am now. I reflected on the kazillion things in life that I've gotten away with... by the grace of God, by luck, by clever calculation... whatever.
Point is, there's something to be said about all of the times I didn't get my ass kicked. I sure as shit learned plenty every time that I did get my ass kicked. I should probably at least be grateful for the times my ass escaped the boot, too.
Day Twenty-Three:
I am grateful for getting away with it.
(What is the Experiment? It is this.)
Posted by bonnie at May 27, 2008 6:27 PM
Comments
"Yeah, we both knew people we could've requested shacking with"
ha...I had to re-read this. Filthy mind, sorry. ;)
Posted by: CJC at May 29, 2008 5:38 PM
You're adorable. ;)
Posted by: bon 
at May 29, 2008 8:08 PM