First of all, I’m here by myself. My wife decided a few days before ZoukFest started that what she’d like most in the world, even more than the fantastic music and hanging out with friends, was a whole week to herself. Honesty is everything, so I knew she meant it. I figure it’s an earth goddess kind of thing, too. No way I would ever mess with that.
Hands of Chipper Thompson and Chris Smith
There are advantages to doing this solo, or at least it seemed that way at first. I have my dorm room set up the way I want it, with my own stuff on both beds and desks. I need the space, too, because I brought everything I could think of in a crazed lust to be prepared. Almost everything I hauled up to my second-floor room will sit unpacked for the duration, naturally. One of the chairs had a nearly-broken back, which I discovered when it nearly did me in. One of the window blinds didn’t work either, so I just took it down and stacked it next to the suicide chair. There are few other advantages to having the room all to myself, like leaving the tequila bottle on the sink. I’ve also kept the blinds and windows wide open day and night, as if I’m camping.
Ah, dorm life… I’d say it’s amazing the way it all comes back, but maybe it just never went away. Very nice facilities, actually, though each sex shares a bathroom. I’ve also discovered that closing my eyes and putting my fingers in my ears can be gloriously liberating, so watch out. (It’s kill or be killed in there.)
There ought to be some mention of music in this narrative, but I’m still fixating on things like a half-eaten Mounds bar sitting on the desk beside me. What can I say, I was desperate for a snack on Sunday night and the machine downstairs gave me two when I punched the button. I still have another one.
Stanley Greenthal (Wednesday night)
Actually, I’m not very good at this. I just opened a can of jalapeño cheddar dip and realized I don’t have a refrigerator. How much of that can one man eat?!? I could give it to the party down the hall, but it might give them sustenance. Hell, I should’ve shared it with my gang.
Dang. Now I’ll have to go out and get another one, in case they look at the blog.
Comment by K.J. Webb
1 June 11, 2008, 6:54 pm o'clock |
I reckon I could handle being in a dorm room for a week. It would lack a woman’s cooking, a woman’s conversation and a woman’s body in the bed at night. I handled all those lacks once, and I reckon I could handle them again, but without much enthusiasm. The last night I spent in a dorm was in a little college in West Virginia where I went to interview for a job. My would-be employers might have been testing me - they put me up for the night in the girls dorm. This kind of spooked me. These were the days when the sexes never resided under the same institutional roof. About midnight I was awoken by the chants of a pack of lustful males circling around outside the windows. The girls in the rooms around me answered the guys with their own taunts, moans, growls - and a few hurled panties. It was spring after all, and maybe this is what passed for “The Rite of Spring” in those parts. I plugged my ears and tried to sleep, although I was actually sort of excited. What would it be like to teach Aristotle to these kids? I bombed in the interview the next morning and never discovered.