voices from the bushes

a few weeks ago, at approximately 7:57 am on a sunday morning, amanda and i were sound asleep in our cozy beds, dreaming sweet dreams of frolicking through fields of flowers. (okay, honestly, amanda probably was having just such a dream, but let's be serious... i was most likely dreaming about some sporting event or the world's largest steak or something.)

anyway, we were aroused by the sound of someone pounding very loudly against a window... our window! in our half-asleep stupor, it took us a minute to realize exactly what was happening. as we were shaking the sleep from our eyes, we heard the following phrases being screamed by two male voices: carson*! get your drunk @$$ out of bed! we have to go to clean-up! (if you aren't a PC student, or maybe just have been away from the college life for a while, clean-up is what fraternity pledges do on sunday mornings - they report to their fraternity house and clean up whatever mess is left behind from the previous nights' partying.)

as we were trying to deduce who carson was and why anyone would think he was in our room, we realized that our window was being opened from the outside by the males to which the screaming voices belonged. and then amanda (whose bed is located right next to the window) came nose to nose with one of the screamers. and, in the most polite, calm voice she has ever used, she said, "he is not here. (pause.) please leave."

and leave they did. but not without first closing our window back (how thoughtful, right?!), beating around in the bushes, yelling more obscenities, actually coming inside the building (what a revolutionary idea, i might add), and eventually finding drunk @$$, also known as carson.

although amanda and i were tempted to report the pledges to their fraternity president and demand a hand-written apology as well as flowers personally delivered to our door, we decided to let the incident slide. i must confess that although it was inconvenient at the time, we have incurred immense pleasure from telling this story over and over again.

in order to ensure that this type of incident does not occur again, we have decided to hang a sign on our window that reads, "boys do not sleep here. they rarely even visit." :)

last, but not least, as all good stories do, this story has a moral: drunk people are very, very stupid.

*names have been changed to conceal identities