What Goes Down in Cashin Hall

Saturday and Sunday were definite lazy days full of homework and other such nonsense.  Saturday night, Re, Lauren, and I went to Laura and Oliver’s house to hang out with them and some of their friends and the rest of the “Archaeology Friend Group” that showed up.  It was a good time and a nice chance to unwind.  There was a bonfire and we all vented about the class and talked about how we see bones everywhere, and how all we’ve really learned is how to hide a body and not get caught, at which point several of the other guests left.  If you’re wondering, by the way, it would be burning the body, smashing all the teeth with a hammer, and breaking all the charred bones.  Spreading the ash would then be the next step.  Anyway, not too much happened this weekend, besides the fact that I am now very suspicious that our bathroom is not actually ever being cleaned.  So, I would like to use this blog post to explain why Cashin Hall is clearly the best of all places for living. 

The Hobo Story:

So.  Re and Lauren live is a suite together, and they are the only two who live there.  This is nice for them because it means they don’t have a mystery loud girl (whom I still haven’t met by the way.  I thought I had, but it was someone else).  But.  Friday night at around 1:30 AM, Lauren waked up to some guys voice.  She thinks it must be another girl moving in with her boyfriends help.  Or something.  So, the next morning, Re goes to use the bathroom only to find that the door is closed.  Upon knocking, a guy answers and says she can use the bathroom and that he’s almost done showering.  She sees that all his bathroom stuff is on the counter.  Also, the couch in their common area had been moved, and one of the sweet doors had been locked, but neither of them lock the outside doors.  We had read online that the suits can be co-ed, so we all went down to the front desk when it opened.  They asked the guy working there if some guy had moved in.  It’s not that it mattered if he had, they would have just like to be informed of it and not taken by surprise.  The guy at the desk gave them a really weird look and says, “There’s no one else living in your sweet.”  Basically, someone just hoboed into their common area and crashed.  Lauren turns to us and in her sweet Tennessee twang goes, “I forgot to lock my bedroom last night.”

The Mouse:

Jackie and I went to go eat lunch this morning only to be surprised by a very dead mouse on the doormat on the ground floor.  It looked like someone had stepped on it.  This begs several questions.  How did it get in?  Who would step on it and leave it there?  Can we bring it into class for extra credit?  Upon returning from lunch, someone has placed an adorable biohazard sign around the area, although they didn’t bother to throw the mouse away.  Hmm.