A timid, shy girl trudged up four flights of stairs with an armful of clothes draped over her left arm with a bag of shoes in her right. She began the journey up the flight of stairs to where she would make some of the best memories of her life. Room 417 would be a room where many laughs were shared, tears shed, passion sparked and late nights turned into early mornings.
Two beds, two desks, two dressers, and two wardrobes. It’s the makeup of every double dorm room in Devereux Hall, but this room seemed special. My best friend and I would spend our nights laughing so hard we would cry. On one particular night before Thanksgiving break, we tried to smoke a cigar in our room. We stuffed a towel under our door, sprayed air freshener through our room, and set up a fan by our window. Endless giggles and laughter came from 417 as we puffed on the cigar pretending we were high society ladies with cigars and a drink in hand, or try to imitate Popeye’s “ah ga ga ga ga ga ga” laugh. The thick smell of tobacco crept through the towel into the hallway and we realized we had to get out of our room. We fled down the four flights of stairs to a bench outside. As we puffed on the cigar our fingertips froze from the below-freezing temperatures, but we didn’t care. We had each other as we watched Thursday turn into Friday and the snowfall gently onto the campus that brought us together.
Out of all the memories I had in room 417, being able to share a space with a girl who I know will be a part of my life for a long time after our stay in room 417 was the best experience I had of my sophomore year.