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It’s only appropriate for me to deem this post the Lost Entries because they’re the accounts that I never got to share while I was telling of my experiences as a Residential Advisor in college.  If you’ve ever lived in a dorm at a University you’ll have undoubtedly heard of “the RA’s.”

What a loaded title.  The RA’s.  It always cracked me up because when students would say the RA’s, I always felt like we were feds, or cops or something.  But we ate Ramen just like the rest of em.

If you knew an RA, maybe you thought of them as the lame kids ruining a good time.

Or maybe they were the “chill RA” who probably shouldn’t have been an RA at all.

Or even still, maybe they were the absent RA – more myth than person, only appearing on the floor in unexpectedly rare times of trouble, mother nature comes to me; speaking words of wisdom, Let it Be.

I was probably a little bit of each.  It’s hard to say what the residents thought of me, but without further puff:

These are the Lost Entries of my time as a Glorified Babysitter.

Entry 360:  It’s getting close to the end of the year and one of the guys from my floor shares that he’s been peeing out of his 11th story window for quite some time now.  I ask, “what if you hit someone.”  He responds, “that’s the point.”

Entry 334:  A few of the guys on my floor decide to arrange the furniture in the community lounge as if it had been blasted outward by some demonic force; stacking couches and desks and chairs.  In the center of the lounge the draw a pentagram out of salt and write “God is dead.”  This may seem extreme, but I’ve seen a resident covered in his own excrement cause he tried to poop while straddling the stall wall.  The janitor finds their work the next morning and knocks on my door quite alarmed.  It was 6am.  I close and lock the lounge.

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Entry 003:  I’m my first year of training at the start of my being an RA and one of the seasoned Residential veterans shares a story about a former RA who wrote a student up.  The student responded by stapling a dead squirrel to the aforementioned RA’s door.  I think, quietly, to myself, “I’ll quit if that happens to me.”

Entry 176:  Me and one of my RA buddies go out drinking and get pretty toasted.  When we get back on campus he starts peeing on a tree right outside my dorm.  I hope that no important sees.  I hope that I don’t lose my job.

Entry 287:  The janitor that cleans my floor and ironically enough, found the aforementioned lounge arrangement of demonic symbolism, informs me that he believes in witchcraft.  He shares with me that the most powerful magic, in fact, is love.

Entry 196:  For the second year in a row, the residents of my floor have found a way to unearth one of the bathroom stall walls, ripping up tile floor, dislodging it from the wall, and incurring floor charges.

Entry 120:  I walk into the community lounge to discover 6 or 7 guys sitting in the dark watching porn on the community television.  I, promptly, walk out of the community lounge.

Entry 328:  The residents have discovered that on nights where we have staff meetings, every RA is out of the building for an hour or more.  The guys on my floor decide to host a floor fight club.  A resident breaks his foot participating.

Entry 142:  A resident swears to God he can put his foot through our dormitory wall.  I politely inform him that it’s pretty much concrete.  He tries anyway.  Tries.

Entry 333:  I try not to laugh as a resident explains to me that her kitchen cabinet fell off the wall dropping a plethora of her items onto the floor and breaking dishes.  She shows me the picture.  I can no longer contain my laughter.

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Entry 364:  I’ve met some good friends while RA’ing.

Entry 165:  A resident throws a rabbit out of the window of my building and almost hits a fellow RA.  No one is sure if the rabbit was dead before or after being thrown out of the window.

Entry 193:  The police have been called.  A drunken resident continues to terrorize the hall, now scraping a kitchen knife up and down the hall walls yelling out, “I’ll bleed ya.”  It’s not intimidating because he’s too drunk to be dangerous.  But the police show up.  He sees the police seeing him see the police seeing him.  The drunken resident throws the kitchen knife in his room and tries to pretend that nothing happened.  They saw him.  He saw them see him.

Entry 296:  Caught one of my community floor leaders playing Fireball pong in the community lounge.  He watched me leave to make building rounds.  I walked one floor up and one floor down.  And then caught him in an act that he started probably only 20 seconds ago.

Entry 285:  Guys that live on my floor are passing out weed brownies.  A girl that frequents my floor eats one, explains that she’s paralyzed, and ‘develops’ cerebral palsy.  Fortunately she lived and made a full 180 on the cerebral palsy disease.

Entry 359:  While doing room checks, my boss and I discover that one of the residents has a snake habitat terrarium in his room.  But we can’t see the snake.

Entry 343:  One of the girls who lives on my floor has an emotional support dog.  It’s a Pitbull/Golden Retriever Mix.  I’m afraid of dogs.

Entry 103:  My residents discover that they know how to pick locks.  I’m worried immeasurably.

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A Retired Glorified Babysitter

A Glorified Retired Babysitter Pt. 2

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