Just a short story about sophomore shenanigans for some stress relief for today’s post.
My sophomore and junior years I lived in the exact same dorm room with the roommate that I would live with my entire last three years of college. We lived in the same all-girls dorm building all three of those years. Our sophomore year was the year before every dorm room on campus got micro-fridges. No, they weren’t tiny fridges, they were dorm-sized refrigerators with a microwave attached to the top. Before that we had this small appliance in our room called a “hot shot” that boiled water for oatmeal or ramen and a microwave down the hall.
Microwave popcorn was a favorite snack of mine and I even had a traditional dance that went with the shaking of the bag to mix the butter all around in the bag. The rule was that you could not leave the microwave running unattended, you had to stand there and watch your food warm up or, in my case, I had to wait around doing nothing for the eternity that it took to pop a bag of popcorn. The microwave was way down the hall – too far to check on something multiple times, but not so far that it wasn’t worth going back to your room to wait.
So one night my roommate and I were studying in our room and I wanted to make some popcorn, so I popped it into the microwave and went back to my room thinking I was an experienced microwave popcorn maker and what’s the worst that could happen. Our room was a corner room with a short hallway to it and the room across the hall that connected to the main long hallway. After a few minutes, I started down the hall to retrieve my treat, but as I rounded the corner, I stopped short. The hallway was filled with smoke and a girl, looking completely pissed off, was holding a smoking, flaming bag of popcorn and carrying it down the hallway, probably to take it outside. The smell was awful. Oh crap! I probably only stood there for a few seconds, but to this day I can picture that scene vividly.
I immediately bolted back into our room and told my roommate that if anyone asks, I am not there. Then I proceeded to hide in our closet, our enormous closet that went way back into the wall, that had housed many a random friend or friends wanting to pop out and scare whoever happened to be in our room.
I was just in time too, because it wasn’t long before the popcorn police, who’d been going door to door investigating and interviewing witnesses, knocked on ours. I felt kind of bad asking my roommate to lie, but I don’t think they actually asked where I was, just if the popcorn was hers and whether she’d seen anyone recently using the microwave. She could technically honestly answer no to both questions. She covered for me brilliantly and I stayed in the closet a little while longer in case they came back. I guess there had been no witnesses to my crime because no one ever knew it was me. At least not until now.
Before I came out, my roommate took the picture below to commemorate the hilarious occasion.
Well, I hope this got some much needed laughs! It still cracks me up.
Have a great week!