Partywise, nothing. The one we went to was a sausagefest.
A confirmed rift between me and my roommates. None were at my apartment when I arrived with my friends for pre-gaming, but they had left a mess of pizza boxes and filled garbage cans. One popped in with his friends from home (apparently they were playing wally-ball at the rec center). He hid in his room for ten minutes gathering his personal effects while his friends sat in the living room with us, not talking. Then he walked out in one trip with lots of stuff and no garbage. Then the next morning I find that he locked his door out of an unfounded fear that my friends would sleep in their beds. It’s clear there’s no trust and no respect in that apartment anymore. For the first time I left Real World Glassboro a pigsty.
But the trip wasn’t a complete waste. If we hadn’t driven down that night, I’d of never gotten the most classic video of my friends dancing. It’s the little things that count.
