Here at Dartmouth, there are only three types of students. The rarest of these types are those students that plan their academics very efficiently, always work hard, turn in assignments early, write rough drafts of papers, spell check thrice, watch "Spin City" re-runs and go to sleep by 10 p.m.
Too bad I will never experience that life, nor will 97 percent of campus. As for the other two types of students, each faces the most important decision a Dartmouth student can make at 2 a.m. in the library: Do I go home or play hide and go seek with the Berry custodians? Novack or the 1902 Room?
Now, the majority of campus enjoys being in places that are well lit, have bathrooms, an air ventilation system, and vending machines. They appreciate the ability to dial out to 911, being around people who have showered before and the sight of a 3:15 a.m. Zamboni. So they choose Novack.
Then there are the rest of us. The pariahs. Like a seven-year-old lost at Six Flags, we didn't listen and ended up in a bad, dark place. We took the road less traveled one day, and now we can't live life any other way. Now we come here to thrive off of the pain and anguish of our compatriots. People peek through the windows outside to see the rumors about what happens in the 1902 Room are true. Answer? All rumors are true.
Don't get me wrong, I don't mind that people are curious. I would be too if I didn't have this condition. But there are some souls that take the curiosity a wee bit too far, to the point that they actually decide to spend a night "working" in 1902. You know, like it's a fun thing to do or something.
Falser words have never been spoken. The 1902 Room is not "a fun thing to do or something." The 1902 Room is the opposite of "a fun thing to do or something." The 1902 Room = Playing racquetball. Going to a family reunion. Watching Heroes. A Kwanzaa party. Skyping. Convincing your mother that fast-forwarding a CD will not scratch it. Watching racquetball.
So, in an attempt to suppress the rage that has developed from watching these "visitors" in the 1902 Room, I am going to just come out and say which actions are legally banned from the 1902. Yes, I said legally. If you break any of these seven rules, I will Good Sam you. And you will be arrested.
The List of The Banned (to be posted, Martin Luther-style, on the back door)
Rearranging Furniture
Although the room may look like a more grandiose Occom Commons, that does not mean you can just come in here and push a couch up to a table because it's "more comfortable." In case you didn't notice, this room bleeds uncomfortable. On a good day, the room smells like mold. So, as cool as it might feel to finally be working in the 1902 Room, don't even consider making any interior dcor alterations. If you do, the shadow people will eat you. It's perfect the way it is.
Being a freshman
There is nothing that important that you have to do this year, I promise. If I could work in Brittle as a senior, I would, but I can't, because it's not appropriate. I know you're dying to see what a senior's soul looks like when it dies, but you're too young for this. If the 1902 Room was the locker room scene from "Starship Troopers," you freshmen would be my friends and I would be at Matt Hiltman's fifth grade birthday party. You just aren't ready yet.
Not understanding doors.
If you come to the 1902 Room from the inside after 2 a.m., do not pull on the door 20 times. That beep and the door subsequently not opening means that the door isn't supposed to open. The fact that no one comes to open it for you also means the door isn't supposed to open. Every time you pull on the door and the beep goes off, "Rock of Love" gets renewed another season seven percent of the hard drives crash in the 1902. Even though at this point nothing fazes 1902 residents, it's still rude.
As for the outside door, please close the door all the way. For some evil reason, at 2 a.m., the door will not fully close, and, after 10 seconds, it beeps until one of the resident zombies has the energy to stand up and close it. As someone who foolishly chooses to sit near the door, having to shut that door because one of our "guests" does not know the codes of conduct of the 1902 Room really bugs me. Don't be this kid.
Stretching or doing yoga in the center aisle.
Completely inappropriate. I will probably ask out on a date tackle the next girl I see doing this.
Chair dancing
In the outside world, this is one of my favorite activities (driver's seat dancing = heaven on earth). In the 1902 Room, however, it happens to be one of my biggest pet peeves. Who knows why? Maybe because it signifies happiness and glee and a lack of urgency to finish your thesis by May. Yep, that's probably it.
Flirting aloud
Don't get me wrong, at 4:15 a.m. when it's just me and a little lady across the way, the only thing I want to do is send her a blitz saying, "Why the low spirits? The Hop opens in under three hours, want to walk over with me and get breakfast?" Note that I did not say anything about speaking to her in person. Keep your flirting within the confines of Blitz. Do not take a homework break to go over to your PYT's classmate's table to snuggle. Save it for the interwebs.
Smiling
If you have something to smile about, you are a fraud and you are not welcome. All the smilers are in Novack, talking loudly and being unproductive. Go be with your kind.
So there you have it, an expos of Dartmouth's own little version of purgatory. I wouldn't trade my parasitic symbiotic relationship with this room for all the world.
121 days until I'm done.
