In the spring of my freshman year, a bunch of us frosh cleverly (or so we thought) circumvented the housing lottery by blocking for a Lodge, a semi-autonomous dorm/house. We were to spend the next year there, living and eating and sleeping in a place so strange it quickly became a campus legend. I expected the TV crew from MTV's "Real World" to drop by any day.
Three men, two women, all of them insane.
About a hundred years old. Stone exterior. The door is 50 lbs of walnut reinforced with iron. The place was built for a seige: and by God, we did our best! When you think "Lodge II", think Windsor castle.
The place had three floors: the top floor was a gorgeous double -- hardwood floor, walk-in closet, huge; the main room was an enormous open space with a warm hardwood floor and a (non-functional) fireplace; the basement had a skanky kitchen and a concrete vault with only a small crack for ventillation.
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The basement was the used for the "Pit of Despair" scene. |
Of course, the women took the gorgous upstairs double.
The men lived in the dark, dank, tomb.
Note the heaven-hell dicotomy here.
Sigh.
...But we loved our home. It was OURS. It was a haven, a refuge, a legend. This short quote reflects this love:
(Chuck to Chris) Mi lodge, su lodge.
(Greg the non-Hispanic overhears part of this) If you ever sue the Lodge, I'll fuckin' kill ya!