One day you're promoted to one of the most esteemed and sought after jobs on campus. The next you're introduced to reality.
"Gentlemen, you are responsible for maintaining order on your dormitory floor. If there's problem, you need to figure out how to deal with it. Don't call me [the Assistant Dean of Men} or security unless the building is burning down."
"Mr. M and Mr. M please meet with me. Gentlemen, Mr. X and Mr. Y will be on your floor. Deal with it." Mr. X was an the All-East starting guard on the football team. His roommate, Mr. Y, was no longer on the football team due to an unfortunate incident with a reluctant young woman during parietal hours. He was being allowed to finish his education at Holy Cross, but his athletic career was over. The worst fears of Mr. M and Mr. M were completely unfounded. M. X was a no-nonsense student. If any mischief lurked in his heart, he was too smart to let it interfere with his goals. How he hooked up with Mr. Y is a mystery. Sober, Mr. Y was smarter than most thought and spent the year on his best behavior.
It was the 160-pound hockey player who was a headache. He lived across the hall from the football players. We made it through the entire fall without a mishap. Then late one December night the football players came knocking at my door.
"Mac, we can't get Frank out of our room. Come and help."
Two gigantic football players couldn't get Frank, the 160-pound hockey player, to leave?
"Ok, I'll come down and evict him."
When I go into their room I have to duck when a hockey stick sails past my head.
Safely prone on the floor.
"FRANK! What the Hell are you doing."
"We're trying to kill me, Mac."
Frank is talking to me from the safety of a cabinet over the one of the dorm room clothes closet. The cabinet is just big enough to hold a 160-pound hockey player.
"Come down, Frank. Damn it!"
"They'll kill me."
Frank is a very long way from sober. From my vantage point on the floor, Frank appears to be naked, except possibly for some undershorts.
"Come down, Frank! I won't let them touch you."
"No way I'm coming down, Mac! I don't trust you, either."
I crawl out of the room to avoid the flailing hockey stick.
"Stay out of the room, you two. I'm going to get Lou [the other Mr. M].
"Lou, get up! Get up, Lou! I need help with a problem."
Lou is sound asleep and just mumbles. He is either a really a sound sleeper, or is taking the coward's way out. I go back to the football players.
"Isn't there someway you can get Frank out without hurting him."
Mr. Y ponders this for a second and looks at Mr. X.
"We can get him out any way we can think of, as long as we don't hurt him?"
"Yes [Sweet Jesus, forgive me]"
"We'll be back"
Ten minutes later they appear with what appears to be a large cylinder of CO2 they've liberated from a Coke machine.
"What are you going to do with that."
"You'll see."
By now half the people on the dormitory floor are awake and out of their rooms watching the spectacle.
One holding the cylinder and the other the hose, the football players enter the room, opening the valve on the CO2 gas. Frank is blinded. He is quickly overcome by the gas, drops the hockey stick and jumps out of the storage cabinet gasping for air. The football players drop the gas cylinder and grab Frank.
Before I can say a word Frank is being carried down the hall by the football players, out into the snow, followed by a large crowd. The football players tear Frank's underpants off over his head, giving him a snuggy. The crowd cheers (Frank was far from universally popular). Then the football players throw Frank into a snow bank.
Frank and I are left there alone in the cold and dark.
"You ok, Frank?"
"@#$%^&*! you, Mac!
Frank is on his feet now, standing naked in the snow.
"Why'd you "@#$%^&*! let them do that to me."
"Calm down, Frank. Let's go inside and get you warm."
So I took Frank to his room, put some clothes on him and put him to bed. Then I went across the hall and banged on the football players' door.
"You two lock the door and don't come out until the morning. Worry about putting the Coke machine back together then. If there's any more trouble, I'll have to call Harrington [the Assistant Dean of Men] and then the shit will really hit the fan."
I spent the rest of night in peace. In the morning, the Coke machine was back together, no one said a word about what happened, including my roommate who missed the whole show.
