It’s been 15 years since this group has all been together, but luckily I remember most of the stories like they happened yesterday…
There was the party that one of the RAs saw us carrying in the keg and came to our door a few hours later to bust us (we didn’t tell him about keg #2 that was hiding in the bathroom).
One of my roommates turned 21 that September, and we rented the “Funky Bus” to take us from bar to bar carrying a keg to drink in between. Luckily, all of the crew from 40A and the guys we blocked housing with in 35B were very supportive of my non-drinking. The time on the Funky Bus ended with a beer fight, and as the sober one I took it upon myself to use one of my roommates as a shield.
One of my roommates had wired a phone (this was before everyone had a cell) downstairs to the bar. Whenever we saw that the RA who lived across from us was downstairs, we would call her just to see her run upstairs to answer then we’d hang up (Yes, we were juvenile and glad that caller ID was still a thing of the future).
When we got sick of all the sophomores walking through our backyard, one night a few of us started throwing and launching water balloons at them. This prompted a call to the BC police, and while two of us apologized and said we’d stop, another one was hiding in the shower.
One night, our “7th man” (each mod had 6 roommates, but we usually had an extra) got upset and threw a beer bottle from our backyard. It happened to break right in front of a BC police officer that was walking by, and he and another cop came to ask us what was happening. As we tried to explain why a 20-year-old was drinking (of course, NONE of us admitted to giving him a beer), the other was using his flashlight to look at all the stolen signs and traffic lights we had hanging up. They let us off with a warning and sentenced the 7th man to sweep up the broken glass.
After seeing the RA making out with her boyfriend in her kitchen window (which was about 5 feet from our kitchen window) several times, one of my roommates was feeling daring (a.k.a. rather drunk) and took a picture of them. She knocked on our door a few nights later to tell us how upset she was, and one of my roommates took the picture off of our bulletin board to show her it didn’t even come out (that didn’t really help).
When the “7th man” turned 21, we drove my roommate’s car (which he had equipped with a PA system) around the mods to outside of 7’s mod. We tried to publicly coax him out for a night of bday brews, but he didn’t want to do anything crazy for his 21st. Once again, the BC police told us they didn’t appreciate our actions, and just let us of with a warning. The next morning, we left on our road trip to South Bend to see the BC-Notre Dame hockey and football games.
My 22nd birthday party deserves a blog post of its own, but I will say unlike my 21st, I didn’t drink a drop. I did repeat my best Mrs. Doubtfire impersonation by burying my face into a cake.
There are many more 40A stories to share, but you’ll have to wait for the book. I certainly lucked out with the group of guys I lived with senior year at BC. We had a lot of fun, and we all graduated (I actually had my best year academically). I think it’s time to get this group together again for our own reunion…