How to make your RA your bitch. (1108 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.44 on 12 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by CobraCommander (View user info) at 2003-12-23 13:19:36 EST
It was still freshman year, and I was fresh off of my victory against the Red Menace. (See previous article, http://www.ubersite.com/m/20844 ) There was peace on the second floor of Pegram dorm, and I was content to sit on my laurels and revel in my glory. Little did I know, however, that I would soon be called on to smite once again.
Everybody who has been to college has at some point experienced having an RA. He's the older guy that lives down the hall from you and has to write you up when you do stupid shit. Most of the time he keeps to himself, but there are those occasions where he feels like he's "one of the guys" because he happens to live next door to us and so deems it necessary to come over to your room and make an attempt to "hang out". Let's see, what do guys (and girls, admit it) talk about exclusively when they're freshmen? The opposite sex and partying. Seeing as how you're not supposed to be drinking, it doesn't really leave you a whole lot to talk about. So basically the RA comes over, you pretend to be really really busy with work, he hangs out in your room for a minute in awkward silence, and then he leaves never to return for another fortnight.
This applies to most RAs. Mine, however, decided very early on that he was my buddy. This is very convenient, as I ended up being the one of the only people on my hall to never get written up. I could come home stinking of liquor, beer, and other unsavory things, and if he caught me stumbling down the hall he didn't bat an eyelid. The only somewhat negative ramification of this was that he'd come on a daily basis to check his email and do some word processing, as his computer didn't work.
If there was one thing he truly hated, it was tuna. "How could he hate tuna?" you might be asking yourself. It's protein, low fat, great for the active lifestyle, good for you as long as you don't eat more than one can per week. Shit, I LOVE tuna. What the fuck problem could he possibly have with tuna? He had a problem with the fact that the trash can was outside his room. Leave an empty can of tuna in there overnight, by next morning it's getting a bit fishy down his neck of the hallway. Needless to say, every time I made myself one of those Starkist snack packs, about an hour later from down the hall I'd have to hear about it.
"Goddamnit, who the fuck is eating tuna??"
One day, something evil awoke in my brain. Inside the dark recesses of my mind, a plan formed. An evil plan. So he hated the smell of tuna, eh? How would he react if ALL he could smell was tuna? All I needed to do was wait until the right moment.
I didn't have to wait long. It was pretty soon before he came over to borrow my computer. Seizing this golden opportunity, I grabbed a can of tuna, stuffed it in my pocket, and moseyed down the hall where conveniently enough he'd left his door open. I knew I didn't have much time. I feverishly opened the can of tuna, now I needed to find a place to put it. I decided that the perfect place was underneath his couch, gave it a nice shove underneath, and nonchalantly walked back to my room, wondering how long it would take to get results. Two days passed. Nothing. Four days. No reaction and I was getting disappointed, wondering what could have possibly gone wrong.
One week later I got what I was looking for.
Walking out into the hall, myself and my hallmates were greeted with the sight of the RA wearing a mask over his nose and mouth and cursing wildly. He was emptying the contents of his minifridge into the trashcan. Everything, from the milk he'd bought yesterday to the bread he'd bought 3 days before. "GodDAMMIT! What the FUCK is that smell?" My friends and I popped into his room to offer our perspective. "Damn dude, it smells like shit in here. Is it your clothes or something?"
This was followed immediately with him shoving all of his clothes and sheets into a basket where he marched them over to the laundry room. That didn't do the job, so he came back and took the unused clothes and sheets out of his closet and washed them too. When that didn't help, he took what was left to the drycleaners. It was clear he needed a little more goading.
"Hey Dan I was - holy shit man, it still smells like ass in here. Did you step in something?"
I was practically busting with laughter when I saw him take every shoe he owned into the bathroom where he spent a good half hour cleaning them. Obviously, this wasn't helping his situation.
"Okay, how the FUCK is this happening? Where is that shitty ass smelling COMING FROM?!?"
"Maybe its something that got rubbed into your carpet?"
A quick trip to the hardware store and he was back with a carpet cleaner. He cleaned that carpet so thoroughly that you could eat off of it with no worry of contamination or dirt. When this didn't fix the smell, Dan appeared to be on the verge of tears.
I went back to my room because I couldn't contain my laughter. The last thing I saw was him checking his desk drawers and behind his bookcase. I'm assuming that shortly thereafter, he finally resorted to crawling around on all fours to look under his bed and such, because about ten minutes later...
"WHAT THE FUCK? TUNA?!? WHO THE FUCK DID THIS???"
I'm guessing that it didn't take long for him to figure it was me. Because the next thing that happened was him storming into my room holding a can of tuna. His face was red and he was hyperventilating.
"You fucking asshole! This is UNCHECKED AGGRESSION!"
I just looked back at him with a big smile on my face. "Yeah, that's right..." He huffed for another minute and, realizing my superior powers, turned to go. "...Bitch..."
The day was mine and before the day was out, Dan had washed 8 loads of laundry, spent over $60 on drycleaning, threw out almost a week's worth of food, washed about 10 pairs of shoes, AND blew however much it costs to rent a carpet cleaner.
And the best part is he didn't even write me up.
User Reviews
Submitted by CobraCommander (user info) at 2003-12-23 20:40:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
PS - I'm going into the army. Yes you're absolutely right about me not being able to handle authority.
Get a clue dick.
Submitted by CobraCommander (user info) at 2003-12-23 20:40:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Okay, so you obviously missed half of my story. The whole point behind this particular RA was that he was actually cool enough that we could play pranks on each other. I posted one i did on him. I'm not going to post the one he pulled on me because who wants to read "Yeah, i got my ass handed to me." Read the fuckin story before you try callin names there bucko.
Also, be thankful that you had RAs like that. Some schools make a practice of only allowing stuck-up assholes/bitches to be RAs for disciplinary purposes.
Think outside your box.
Submitted by Franger (user info) at 2003-12-23 20:20:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Actually pretty much every RA I ever had was fucking heaps of fun, they organised pub crawls and stuff, and yet managed to be responsible at the same time. Maybe your just a dick and can't stand someone having authority over you.
Submitted by CobraCommander (user info) at 2003-12-23 19:17:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Yeah, 10 pairs of shoes. He was in ROTC with me, except he was a senior. He had 1 set of army dress shoes and 3 pairs of combat boots. 2 pairs of running shoes for PT. So when you boil it down, not really all that many ACTUAL shoes.
Collegestories.com? Fraid not Leary. It actually happened. I made LT Dan (i'm not putting his last name online) my bitch. He's now in Afghanistan.
Submitted by Denis_Leary (user info) at 2003-12-23 15:29:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
www.collegestories.com
Submitted by FATMANTPK (user info) at 2003-12-23 14:52:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You are cruel....I like it!
+2
Submitted by ess2s2 (user info) at 2003-12-23 14:48:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Goddamn funny story, haven't seen something of this caliber on Uber for a long time.
I was on the boat with this guy whose dirty laundry smelled like tuna, it wasn't because anybody pulled anything though, his shit just smelled like tuna.
2 weeks before cruise was over, be gave him a shower party. GodChicken knows what I'm talking about.
Submitted by reallybored (user info) at 2003-12-23 14:24:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
10 pairs of shoes?!?
Thats kinda weird......
Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2003-12-23 13:37:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Hahah!
I used to torment other sailors during stormy weather by leaving a can of oysters in mustard sauce up in the ventilation. They'd fill a small trashcan with their breakfast within an hour. I'd sit there slurping thick, creamy potato soup with tons of onion, and then wander over to talk to them.
I made my boss hurl so hard he fell into the trashcan headfirst.. right on top of his mess.
Submitted by Perplexd (user info) at 2003-12-23 13:34:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
excellent
Submitted by volklcess (user info) at 2003-12-23 13:30:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Hahaha. That's great. Fan-fucking-tastic. You're one of my favorite new users. Keep up the good work!!!
Phoenix
Submitted by Sunny (user info) at 2003-12-23 13:24:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Fabulous.