Initiation Stories
The poster below immortalized the class of 1997.
You might ask why were we dressed up so strangely. The answer is that we were on our way to initiate Sadru and Magary. In the comments section, I will relate some of my favorite initiation stories. You should do the same (see Ben Cooper's run in with security).
You might ask why were we dressed up so strangely. The answer is that we were on our way to initiate Sadru and Magary. In the comments section, I will relate some of my favorite initiation stories. You should do the same (see Ben Cooper's run in with security).
posted by (d)avid at 11/19/2004 09:38:00 AM
4 Comments:
My freshman roommate was a hockey player. During the first week of college, he was "initiated" three times by the hockey seniors. Initiation consisted of breaking in at 3am, jumping on the bed, pouring beer on Mike, and then beating the tar out of him. The second week he was initiated a couple more times, but the team decided that I might feel left out, so they included me in the ritual. By the time Za auditions rolled around, I had been personally "initiated" by the hockey team five or six times.
So the morning after the second round of auditions, I bunch of cretins comes barrelling into the room jumping on me, singing some inane song and thrusting a beer bottle into my hand. I screamed a stream of profanities at them and might have even punched one of them yelling that they had the wrong fucking bed and to get out before I castrated one of them. The group apologized and ran off.
Soon thereafter, I realized that hockey players don't sing and I didn't smell beer. So I looked at the beer bottle and it had a Combo Za business card taped to it. The group had also kindly given me a t-shirt (the only t-shirt from the group that I would ever receive, because Rich is a shiftless nogoodnik who stole Faigin's and my money!). I REALLY wanted to be in the group and was afraid that I had offended them. So I got dressed and went out in search of Za. I found them in Baxter and apologized profusely -- explaining that I thought they were the hockey team. I'm not quite sure what they made of that explanation, but it is true, damnit.
Greatest hits. We're running around to initiate Peter Rubin my sophomore year (he didn't try out his freshman year, then took junior year in Indiana, so we didn't have as much Peter as we craved). We were a big group and I was leading the charge for much the same reason that Ray Lewis led the charge during the Ravens Superbowl season.
Peter's girlfriend at the time, Fioan Maazel, lived in one of those weird center rooms in Currier where the hallway wraps around the room, so I had a chance to get up a head of steam. The group was right behind me and making an awful racket. Peter opens the door to see what the hell is going on just as I'm arriving at the door, so I don't have to break stride. I lowered my shoulder a bit and surged into Peter's chest. We flew back into the room about six feet. Thank god Fi was supposed to have a double and there was a lot of empty space behind Peter and he only hit the floor. It was probably the most satisfying tackle of my life. The fact that I didn't permenantly cripple Peter is also a plus.
For those who are curious, in the picture Peter is wearing my New Kids on the Block T-shirt, an old vest that Old Navy has probably made hip again, and carrying a multi-colored boomarang. Steve is wearing his father's clothes from the early 1970s. They are probably also cool as well. I am wearing a frilly skirt, a bicycle helmet, and a "Fuckin Gonuts" shirt (parodying Dunkin Donuts). I am also carrying a toy hammer that squeaked when I thwacked Magary and Sadru with it. Maybe later I will post pictures of the entire group -- a motley crew to be sure.
No one is going to tell the story about Felipe? Fine, I'll tell it. We went charging into some poor sap's room in East. Sorry, Felipe changed rooms. So we go down to the new room. Sorry, he's at his girlfriend Vickys. Do you know where she lives? No, but she lives in the Frosh Quad, maybe Sage. Do you know her last name? No. So we go charging over the frosh quad and start asking people if they know Felipe's girlfriend Vicky and where she lives. Sage E, room something or other. So we go charging up the stairs. Knocking hapless frosh out of our way Knock on the door and ... long pause. "Yes?" "Is Felipe there?" "Yes, who is there?" "Just open the door." Vicky was nice enough to open the door and we piled on top of Felipe and his disheveled clothes.
If only we had arrived five minutes later, then it would be a Za initiation story for the ages.
So there are no good stories of Randy exhibiting his Rugby skills duing initiation? No other run ins with security? No strange roommate stories? Sheesh.
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