SHENANIGANS
As I mentioned in an earlier posting, I lived on the seventh floor of Traber Hall during my junior year. We had this one guy on our floor who was really annoying. I think his name was Bill. He was from Philadelphia or something and he wanted to be a cop. He already had a nightstick, handcuffs, and various other cop paraphernalia in his dorm room. Why he was at Alma Mater to become a cop I’ll never know. But you know the type. He had a nose for care packages from home. I remember getting a box of brownies from some girl and I found him in my room wolfing them down. This happened repeatedly to the guys on the floor and we determined to get him.
Late one night one of the guys called the emergency room at Central DuPage Hospital and said his roommate had taken some over-the-counter sleeping pills and he was worried. After reporting his height and weight he was told that the guy could probably take six of them without hurting himself.
Another guy ran down to the A & W Root Beer stand and got two of those quart cartons of root beer. We ground up six or seven of the sleeping pills and put them into one of the quarts. I then walked off the elevator and meandered by his room, making sure he saw me with both quarts. I engaged him in conversation and sure enough, he asked me why I had two. I told him they were on sale for two for one so I just got two. He asked if he could have one. I told him he could have one if he would bet me. I bet him $5 that I could drink mine faster than he could drink his. Like taking candy from a baby!
Bill chugged that root beer like a champ. I gave him $5 and wished him nighty night as I turned to leave his room. Within 20 minutes he was snoring like a pastor with sleep apnea! I mean, this guy was dead to the world! We carried him into the elevator and sneaked him out to the car while a couple of guys carried the mattress from his bed.
We grabbed his own handcuffs and quietly transported him over to the dining hall clad in only his whitey tighties. Before you could say Hudson Taylor Armerding, Bill was cuffed to the railing at the bottom of the stairs in the lobby of the dining hall (which is now your bookstore, young bloggers). All I know is that he was still sleeping there when I went to breakfast at 7:15 the next morning. There was quite a crowd of people standing around wondering what the heck he was doing there and how he got there.
The moral of the story is…I guess there isn’t one.
Next time, boys and girls, I’ll tell you the story of the streaker from College of DuPage who we caught in the Fischer Dorm lobby late one night!
(These pranks are not copyrighted but the author denies any knowledge of such urban myths should they be repeated by any current students of Alma Mater)
9 Comments:
Good story? True?
Anyhow, whenever we would point out somebody sleeping in church, my Dad would say,"He's praying."
Our church had a lot of "praying" men.
Soon, I too discovered the wonders of "prayer."
Do you have a good "prayer ministry" in your congregation? Do you ever have to turn up the PA system to be heard over the loud snores?
Oh, what am I thinking? That's why you serve coffee during your services. Brilliant!
Great story. I am thinking that many of us missed this event since we didn't come on campus until you were a senior. Fortunately for the rest of us your class continued to entertain non-stop into your senior year. We are trusting that the current students are not reading these blogs since they are busy studying. But, just in case they are reading them and perhaps getting some really bad ideas from Shilohman I would like to offer the following warning: this same prank, if pulled off today, would no doubt render the victim brain dead and the fortunes of your family null and void due to unlimited liabiltity and a highly litigious society. But, gratefully they are not reading this. Happy Easter!
Unfortunately, they've proven they don't need our help in coming up with great prank ideas.
Besides, if they're not "studying", they're busy preparing the hors d'oeuvres for the Soooooooooooul force welcome reception!
Mrs. Yak
Yes, SC, a true story. It didn't take long for someone to figure out who lived on his floor and for Dean Nelson to round up "the usual suspects." As with all of our little chats with Dean Nelson, (at least the ones in which I was involved) this one ended with his usual plea, "Please don't hurt anybody and don't damage any property." We always assured him that if we ever found out who did the deed we would let them know.
My roomy, Bond Isaacson, was once a usual suspect in a Dean Nelson roundup. Before anyone could say a word at the inquisition, he asked if they could all pray together. It was a brilliant strategy - he took full control of the meeting from the start and never gave it back. No wonder the guy went on to make a fortune in the dot.com biz.
Dear YB or Mr. Yak,
Wow! That is a brilliant strategy! I wish I would have thought of it! None of us was quite that sharp. So Bond made a fortune in business? I wonder if he has a burden for helping a cutting edge church plant?
You would have a much better chance of getting his money if you were in the car business.
My last comment was harsh. From what I here he is very generous. But he does have a heart for fast cars.
Could be worse. It could be fast women.
Post a Comment
<< Home