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The Dartmouth
June 17, 2024 | Latest Issue
The Dartmouth

Gimme Some Shelter

I've heard the low, echoed, fatuous moans of freshmen blending with the collective tearing of envelopes, punctuated by heavy sighs as their hazed eyes swerve to the words "Hinman" or "McLane" stamped seemingly in blood upon their fall housing assignments. I wish that I could relate to my fellow students in this dire hour, or even empathize with them. But this year, I've lived in the River Apartments, and with little discomfort. I have almost no cause for complaint -- in fact, I've felt pleasantly pampered all term. My days have been filled with quiet nights and still quieter mornings; long naps in my single bedroom; even happy, Norman Rockwell-type evenings taking turns baking and cooking with my neighbors in our kitchens. Unfortunately, there's an evil mist lingering around 202 Maxwell these days. Not long ago, I was roused from a particularly delicious slumber by the phone ringing.

"Hey, Kev, it's Brad. We gotta talk."

"(Incoherent mumbling noise)?" My eyes flutter. I yawn. My excellent nose tells me that my next-door neighbor Lauryn is baking brownies.

"You awake? Have you called that landlady about an apartment for fall term yet?"

My stomach does a somersault before jack-knifing into my toes. The clock reads 5:37. Business hours are long over.

"Uhhh... I thought you were going to do that, Brad. Darn, I guess I overslept and forgot about it. It's my fault. Sorry."

From the first few days in April, my faithful sidekick Brad and I have been searching for an apartment for next year. We've fantasized all about our departure from the safety of dormitory life -- our foray into the wild reaches of rental housing. We think we're prepared for the forthcoming armies of electricity and water bills; the battles with unsavory New England critters; the spine-tingling dangers of an unpredictable toilet. So let me make The Dartmouth place my gratuitous, begging whine in print right now -- please, pleasepleaseplease if you know of a two-bedroom apartment in Hanover that is available for next year ... contact me! Now! Well, enough nonsense. Lately, I've been contemplating the possibilities of a pup tent. It may last me through September, but come October I'd have to break out the thermal underwear at night for sure. Hmm.

"I wonder if you have any ideas, Kevin. What are we going to do?" Good question, I think. At this moment, I am thankful that he can't see me turning blue with guilt. I'm only staying on in Hanover this fall to work, do research, and audit courses. He, on the other hand, has major classes lined up. So, you understand the raw need here.

On Monday, Marcia Yablon '00 beautifully described her theory on housing "damnation." ["The Great ORL Conspiracy," May 19, 1997, The Dartmouth.] However, my friendly '00's, it could be much worse than schlepping your belongings out to the Choates for a few terms. At the very least, you'll have a cheap cardboard box with brick veneer in which to cozy up. You thought that ORL was out to get you? Ha! You have yet to feel the wrath of the D-Plan! Juniors are frowned upon most during the fall. Just ask Brad -- he is officially on "provisional" status. Don't fret, you will come to understand these things. In the meantime, I'll be roaming the streets of Hanover singing the "Carmina Burana" with a blanket tossed over my head. Roast a few marshmallows out near Bissell for me.