It was a Saturday night. I had just moved in to Monroe Hall a week earlier and was only beginning to befriend my hall mates and accustom myself to life sans parents.
All of a sudden, a group of eight screaming men threw open my door and turned off the light. They seized me and subsequently barraged my ears with barbershop music. Throughout the rest of the night, members of the group imbibed the foulest-smelling liquid with which I had ever come in contact -- a certain Wild Irish Rose.
