(A few weeks before starting my third year of college, I have a major ankle surgery and I am naturally in a cast and on crutches when the school year begins. The dorm building I am living in has a schedule of fire drills for the year posted in the main entryway, so all residents know when the fire drills will happen. The day of the first fire drill arrives and it is pouring rain. In the morning, I talk to one of the Resident Advisors [RA #1] and show him the impossible-to-miss cast on my leg. He emails the university housing department for guidance, and the housing department replies that as long as I can get to the main entrance, I will be granted an exception from having to go outside. When the fire alarm goes off, I get to the main entrance, where [RA #2] is shouting at the top of his lungs.)

RA #2: “Come on, hurry up! Get outside, people!”

Me: *hobbling down the hallway on my crutches* “Hey, [RA #2], I’m here.”

RA #2: “Get outside! We can’t count this drill as a pass if you don’t get outside!”

Me: “I should have an exception from the housing department saying I only needed to get to the main entrance for today. You should have gotten an email about it, or you can ask [RA #1].”

RA #2: “I don’t care what the email said, and I don’t care what [RA #1] says! You need to get outside! What would you do if we had an actual fire right now?”

Me: “For a real fire, I would obviously be outside, but we all know this is a drill. I’m not going outside and ruining my cast for a drill. Talk to the housing department if you have a problem with it.”

RA #2: “We can’t pass the fire drill if you don’t get outside!”

Me: “All right, then do you mind if I go back up to my dorm to grab a garbage bag? If I’m going to go outside, I need something waterproof to wrap around my cast.”

RA #2: *now screaming in my face* “We can’t go back into the building! JUST GET OUTSIDE!”

Me: *shoving him back with my crutch* “Okay, here’s the deal. I’ll go outside, but I’m informing you now that I’ll be charging you the cost of my cast replacement since you’re refusing to follow a written instruction from the housing department granting me an exception from going outside today. You’ll hear from my family’s attorney after I get the bill for the cast replacement.”

RA #2: *somehow only now noticing my cast for the first time* “Oh. You’re in a cast? Then… I guess… you can stay inside this time, since it’s only a drill.”

Me: “Thank you!”

(I still sent in an official complaint to the housing department about [RA #2]. He received a pretty heavy talking-to for the incident, and he completely avoided me for the rest of the year.)

I am a resident assistant in a hall occupied almost entirely by freshmen; in essence, I am a poorly-paid babysitter. A few days into the fall semester, the fire alarm goes off at around 11:00 pm. I usher all the sleepy freshmen out of the building and across the street, and we wait for the firefighters to give us the all-clear.

Eventually, we are able to go back inside, but that’s not the end of it. We have to check the student ID of every. Single. Person. Mind you, 650 students live in this building, not counting overnight guests. It takes a long time, but it’s necessary to keep students safe and prevent strangers from entering the building. 

Finally, everyone is sorted and the RAs can go back to bed. I’ve just fallen into a blissful sleep when I am awakened again by the sound of a fire alarm. I look at my clock and see that it is 3:00 am. Grudgingly, I get out of bed and we do the same song and dance. It takes the firefighters less time to do this round, and we end up going to bed within the hour.

I am appalled when, just before dawn, the fire alarm goes off again. I notice that far fewer people are outside than the previous two alarms, which I later learn is because many students elected to just stay in bed and endure the ear-splitting alarm — and make it that much harder for the rest of us, since we can’t get the all-clear until everyone has left the building. Finally, finally, we get back inside and I get a couple more hours of sleep before my 9:00 am class.

Later, I’m talking to my boss and discover the reason we had so many alarms in one night. There is a dining hall on the first floor of the building, and it was being renovated all summer. They had finally finished construction that week, but somehow messed up the wiring such that it repeatedly triggered the fire alarm. After the third alarm, they finally fixed it.

(I am a resident assistant in a building that was constructed on the site of an orphanage that burned down during WWI. Unexplainable incidents are not unusual, but this is one of the stranger ones.)

Student: “So, uh… A cross just fell off my wall and flew across the room.”

Me: “Put in a work order?”

(I work in student accommodation. Some international students arrive to live on campus earlier than other students. I get to the office to find the managers laughing with a note in their hand.)

Me: “What’s so funny?”

Manager: “So, you know how some students can start living here early if they are international students?”

Me: “Yeah?”

Manager: “Well, this student stayed his first night last night and has a couple of complaints.”

Me: “Okay, what’s wrong? It’s not that bad here.”

(They looked at each other and started laughing again and handed me the note. I read the note and had to read it again to make sure I’d read it properly. The student couldn’t sleep because the campus was near some train tracks and he was demanding we stop the trains from running in the future. He didn’t understand that we had no control over the trains. All we could do was offer some earplugs and wish him the best.)

A boy I dated in college thought it was great fun to try to get girls to flash him while he and his friends were driving down the highway. He never did it while I was in the car because that was disrespectful to me. But when he was with his buddies, it was okay because that’s what boys do. I tried to explain that it really wasn’t acceptable behavior, but he brushed me off. (Yes, I know, I should have dumped him right there, but I was young and dumb.)

The day after this conversation, he came to my dorm room to study before going out with his buddies. I asked if he intended to play this flash game again, to which he angrily replied that it wasn’t a big deal and I was overreacting. To quote him, “Tits are tits. You have them. So what?”

His friends arrived and crowded into my room, ready to go on their adventure. Before they left, I asked for everyone’s attention and lifted my shirt, showing my breasts to my boyfriend and all of his friends.

They cheered and clapped. He was livid. How could I do something so trashy? Why was I being such a w****? Did I want to bang all of his friends? What was wrong with me?

I stood there calmly waiting for him to run out of air before I replied, “So, you can look at other girls, but other guys can’t look at me?”

He gaped like a fish out of water while his friends stood there in awkward silence. I told him if he thought his game was acceptable, I was going to continue showing off my body to anyone who asked. He stormed out without saying another word.

When he returned that evening, he said he was willing to forgive me if I promised to never act like that again. I shut the door in his face.