Stranger in a Strange Room

Everyone always boasts about their supposed ultimate collegiate experiences. You know, those wacky moments that ought to stay fresh in one's memory forever. Some can be quite imaginative, while others lack any color at all. Here's ours:

Peter: She was wearing nothing but my plaid shirt.

Blurry-eyed, I hefted my Sunday Times and Globe (promptly delivered by The Harvard Crimson to my door each and every morning for an unbelievably low price) and staggered into the common room, only to notice that something was amiss...a neat pile of Tommy's pizza boxes...an unvacuumed rug...a naked girl...our nice collection of textbooks still in their original cellophane wrappings. Wait a minute, what was that?!?! There, sleeping on the futon, was a girl wearing nothing but my plaid shirt. I crept around the futon, tilting my head to the side to recognize her as...someone I had never seen before in my life. While I may not know my roommates terribly well, I had some difficulty imagining any of them kicking a girl out of bed in the middle of the night to make her sleep in the common room. After trying to remember if any of my roommates might have had 'company' (if you know what what I mean), I decided to go to wake Tony up.

Tony: My first reaction, as my annoying roommate repeatedly attempted to lift me out of my comatose state, was to call him some names that I'd rather not mention in print. Nevertheless, he managed to drag me out of bed and into the common room. As I stood there, asleep on my feet, he asked me if I noticed whether there was anything strange about the room; immediately, my eyes honed in on the figure lying fast asleep on the futon, wearing what looked like one of my roommate's numerous plaid J. Crew shirts. Very quickly, I circled around her to see if I knew who she was; unfortunately, this proved to be quite futile--I had never seen that girl before in my life, and I never forget a face.

P: We then woke our other two roommates, showing them our unexpected 'guest' and inquiring if they had any idea as to who she was or from whense she came. We huddled in the hallway, debating possible hypotheses, from drunken sex that defied consciousness to a gift from heaven. One look at ourselves and we knew the former wasn't the case; one look at her and we realized that this clearly wasn't an act of divine providence. On the subject of divine providence, I want to be perfectly clear that aside from my shirt, this girl was completely naked. Although it didn't strike us at first, the crumpled pile of discarded clothes in the corner that usually comes with a naked person just wasn't there--there were no pants, no underwear, nothing except a sweater on a hook in the bathroom. We found this more than a little intriguing.

T: After much of this nonsense, the time had finally come for Sleeping Beauty to be awoken--of curse (with my luck), I was elected to do the honors. After I lightly nudged her shoulder (for about 10 minutes), she came to. I then proceeded to ask her where she thought she was, and her answer was right on the money: Winthrop House. However, when I asked where excatly in Winthrop she thought she was, her answer was off by an entryway and couple of floors (she said that she was supposed to be spending the night with a friend)--a rather amusing fact. She then went on to explain how she had been at a party "next door," and did not know how she had ended up in our room. We later found out that party she spoke of was actually at the Advocate; for all those who have not mastered their Cambridge geography just yet, that's about three blocks away from Winthrop.

As she continued to apologize profusely for the embarrassing situation she had found herself in, I (being the gentleman that I am) mentioned to her that we had not found any of her clothes. Her response.? She didn't bat an eye. "I know," she said. That was a hard one to digest. Nevertheless, when she asked to borrow the plaid shirt and some shoes, we politely agreed. So, she finally went on her merry way, wearing nothing but Peter's now famous shirt, her sweater wrapped around her waist and a pair of my roommate' size 12 flip-flop sandals. You really had to be there.