“‘Twas my first night on Court Street, when all through the air,
all the freshmen were flocking; all judgments impaired.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a car full of frat boys and eight kegs of beer”
It’s amazing how many people you can meet on Court Street at 2 a.m. The woman playing her ukulele, the beatnik without shoes, the flock of freshmen screaming at the top their lungs and just about everyone in between….
To put it simply, my first experience on Court Street was like everyone else’s: a little sketchy.
After a long night of milling around Mill Street, my three roommates and I decided to take a stroll down Court Street as a short cut to get back to our dorm. We shuffled down the sidewalk in typical freshman fashion, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw a girl in a mini skirt and cockeyed tank top trying to cross the street. Before she was nearly hit by a car, I pulled her back on the sidewalk. The girl (who we’ll call Lexi) laughed at her poor judgment and then rambled on and on telling us about her roommate who was at a party down the block. She was very adamant about how much she missed her and about how she hoped she was okay. My roommates were clearly not down for picking up strangers; however, she insisted that we join her, so down the block we went…
Lexi held on tightly to my shoulder as she teetered rapidly down the sidewalk. She waved “hello” to every pedestrian we saw on the way in hopes they were her roommate. Suddenly, the five of us approached a small white house, clad in red solo cups and aimless strangers. Music was blasting while my roommates glared at Lexi as she trampled into a sea of guys she supposedly “knew.” She then proceeded to hand us all cups of Natty and clung to us lovingly, whispering, “Drink up, I’ll take you under my wing.” After taking a shot of tequila with some guy outside, she dragged us by our wrists into the house of drunk strangers.
A very eclectic mix of people were crammed inside the tiny living room, yet as soon as she slammed the screen door behind her, everyone paused to stop and stare at Lexi as she waltzed inside carrying three (very, very frightened looking) freshmen girls. She introduced us as “her freshmen.” Nobody was impressed by our presence or by her drunken introduction.
After my roommates and I had stared at each other awkwardly for about twenty minutes, Lexi invited us to sit on an already crowded couch that reeked of stale beer. Eager to impress, I sat in between her and a very large, muscular football player. He gave me the obligatory head nod and then began to make out with our new friend. Embarrassed, and kind of grossed out, my roommates and I found our way to a vacant bathroom on the second floor. “Guys,” I said standing against the sink, “we need an escape plan.” They agreed, and before Lexi could see us, we snuck out the side door.
We laughed all the way back to our dorm about how awkward we were and about how only we would befriend a girl like that. And it was only week one.