College Dorm Stories

I remember one night when everyone who was home in the above 6 buildings all started mooning out the windows. This stuff usually happened on Sunday nights.

sunny yummy engineering geek.

Luckily my dorm was the one nearest the hot truck.

Where there two hot trucks? Wasn't there one near Bach Hall (?) the womens dorm? I live in Clara Dickson freshman year. I was super poor and didn't spend much money at the hot truck.

I think there may have been one near Balch, but I'm not sure. What I remember now was that there were two trucks on west campus, one was the Hot Truck, that had all the Italian meatball and sausage subs, and that kind of food, and then there was the food truck that had burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches. Louie's I think. I preferred that one, because I didn't like the Hot Truck food with the gooey motzarella and the super-thick Italian toasted bread. Everyone else's tastes seemed to be the opposite, though.

There's also an article about the hot truck:

*mozzarella

The hot truck was operated by Johnny's Big Red Grill? I think. Need to look at the article.

R4 Actually one of the comments under the article says: "We loved tuna sandwiches from Louie’s truck parked outside Balch Hall."

Nothing salacious to report. My roommate freshman year was this absurdly handsome and ripped Italian-American guy. He used to walk around shirtless. Being in the presence of such a hot guy on a daily motivated me to lose a ton of weight and I became a twink slut the following year. I still think about Tony.

I remember my roommate had a girl staying in our dorm room for a while who'd been raped. It was really thoughtful of him to do that but then he tended never to be there, which meant there was this total stranger living in the room curled up in his bed for hours, who was traumatized and had nothing to say. he never asked me if it was okay for him to let her stay in our room. My roommate and I didn't get along, he was a goofy jock from Cleveland and he was a slob who never cleaned and threw all his dirty clothes into his closet for weeks. But we ended up getting along after I screamed at him one day.

The guys who lived next door to the room, and another guy who lived next door to them, are still close friends of mine.

Oh, yeah--and his dad used to call in the middle of the night to check up on him and make sure he wasn't out somewhere. It drove me fucking crazy.

I was still pretty naive in college. I had a single dorm room. Occasionally, the cute guy across the hall would knock on my door late at night to see if I wanted his cigarettes, claiming he only smoked while he was studying. About the fourth time, when he knocked on my door offering his Marlboro Lights wearing nothing but a towel…I got the hint. I invited him in, and had my first gay experience. We hooked up a few more times that semester, even though we both had girlfriends. I’ve often wondered whatever happened to him.

My freshman roommate was a very tall naturally built redhead, stunning and eccentric but friendly. He had a huge dick. We wore the same jean size. He took to borrowing my clothes. He was a cock tease. Or maybe it was generous. He said casually, "Hey I wore your Levis yesterday. But just so you know, I wore them commando." Then he winked at me. Nothing ever happened between us and I was a closet case freshman year and fucking women.

R11 Lucky

We became very friendly and got along great after we didn't live together any more.

I was not sexually active in college, but curious. I had to pass through a big corner rotunda called Woolsey Hall every night on the way to the music annex. It was an entrance to a concert hall. One night, not a concert night, I heard sounds from the basement men's bathroom. I went down to explore. As I got near the door, I heard many stall doors slam. I walked in. Every stall ( and there may have been as many as 15 or 20) was occupied. Three men were leaning/ sitting on the edge of sinks, two of them smoking cigarettes. I knew I wasn't in Kansas anymore, but I was probably 19 at the time and had no concept how or what to do in that situation, so I scurried out. I wasted some prime sexual years in college because of growing up in a sex negative home and religion. I did my best to make up for it a few years later

If this way Yale, the GAY IVY, its kind of staggering you were so deeply repressed and clueless.

It could've been Connecticut or Kansas, R16.

ah ha

I was raped, fairly violently, in the ass, by a (self-identifying, I guess) straight classmate from some or other calculus class. This is at a non-Ivy in Boston. It was painful, way beyond anything I’ve ever felt during “normal” sex with a guy. My underpants had wet bloodstains when I woke up in the morning after a mostly restless night. It remains the most traumatic experience of my life. Decades later now and I’ve yet to maintain a romantic relationship for more than two or three months. And I 1000% attribute that to what happened to me back then.

I wasn’t able to move off-campus and out of that very dorm for another seven months or so.

After I came out, must have been about 1983?, twice I got notes under my door from shy closet cases wanting to experiment with me. I didnt take the offers because my dance card was filled with hotter closeted jocks who were certainly not shy in sex. Looking back now, I regret being a meanie who avoided tenderness. Also it took balls for those two to WRITE it down. I kept their secrets.

R19 geez I'm sorry to hear that. Why not go to therapy now!? They know a lot more about overcoming trauma.

I’m an old woman. I was a freshman at UCLA when there were separate “ wings “ of the building for girls and boys . I was very young, naive, with no sexual experience .

I went to this guys room for a study session . I thought we were going to study . I know I’m a moron . So he makes a move on me, and I am genuinely surprised .

What I’ve never forgotten was his explanation , “ I’m a very tactile person .” Go figure. Age of the innocence,

Oh wow, r19. I’m sorry that happened to you.

Have already posted about losing my virginity with the hot guy across the hall in my dorm at UC Santa Cruz in the early 1980s.

95% of the dorms were co-ed, with shared bathrooms, so there was zero nudity to speak of. The campus had no fraternities or sororities, so that scene was absent, which was good. No hazing, panty raids, or crap like that. There were no sports teams. Nevertheless, it was a nerdy hippie crowd with plenty of weed and hallucinogens like magic mushrooms and LSD. It was a physically huge campus, remote from town, spread out through stunningly beautiful Redwood forest up in the mountains/hills, with views of the Pacific Ocean. You had to sort of hike across campus to get to class from your dorm. It was a fabulous setting for this Biology major.

There was no central student union building, which limited social activities. Most students I knew were lonely and depressed and would rather have been accepted to Berkeley or UCLA. Students having sex on campus either had coveted single rooms, or met in shower stalls (as I did -- good times!) or waited until their room mate was away. Not many guys were out of the closet in 1980 there, including me. As a result, I fell "in love" with several straight guys who'd become close friends and was constantly broken hearted. Similarly, I missed cues from guys who I would realize years later were attracted to me. A lot of girls flirted with me because I was seemingly single. My dorm had a rare single-sex floor for (horny) girls. I was not accustomed to being sexually attractive to anyone. A fag-hag type dorm RA from SF gave me a makeover. New haircut, wardrobe from a thrift store, and I got contact lenses with student loan money. I grew a mustache. Little did I know that I looked like a Castro Clone. Many students were loners and/or just lacked social skills. Until there was a tragic DUI incident that killed three students, the campus actually sponsored alcohol-infused happy hours in each dorm every Friday. We were all underage and most of us were unaccustomed to drinking.

Aside from the excitement of covert sexual exploration with a few other guys, my best memories of dorm life were "hall shroom-outs" in which almost everyone - the "innocent Catholic girls" included - took magic mushrooms. These often coincided with "Vice Nights" in which there was a different drink or drug, or porn magazine or group massage going on in various rooms. You could hear stereos playing Pink Floyd, The Moody Blues, the Beatles White Album, etc.. while tripping in a new universe. Midnight hikes during full moons in the Redwood forest were wonderful and surreal. There were also psychedelic murals all over campus, some featuring scenes from the Wizard of Oz and Alice in Wonderland.

I also had to work a part-time job in a Chemistry lab to pay to be there. Needless to say, I did not excel academically while at UCSC living in the dorms. But I wouldn't trade my experiences for anything else. My guess is that similar scenes played out on college campuses all around the world in the early 1980s.

Damn, R19. I really hope you have had some help working through the trauma. I'm so sorry that happened to you.

I was an RA in a coed dorm. It was an incredibly benign situation. Years later, FOX network was doing promos for the show “Undeclared” as a crazy show about “Life in a Coed dorm!!” as though it was some sexual free for all. No. It’s guys with bed head and morning breath and women in modest bathrobes and towel turbans.

I lived in an all-male dorm the year before and it was all engineering geeks and exchange students.

engineering "geeks" at top schools can be QUITE non geek. they can be hot and handsome. just brainiacs as well.

My college dorm was organized vertically around stairwells leading to suites with two bedrooms, a common space with a fire place and an en-suite bathroom. You could combine them into larger suites by opening a fire door. Recently, in order to comply with the ADA, they tore out the suites and stairwells and replaced everything with single bedrooms off of long hallways that can be reached by elevators.

Sad.

I remember being taken out for my 19th birthday when the drinking age was 21, going to the bar in the freshman student union with a bunch of people, and drinking 19 shots during the evening. Wonder I survived.

Also I still have a scar on my finger from the same student union, from when I took one of the glasses at the drink machine, at lunch, and held it under the nozzle, and it cracked in my hand. I doubt they use glass today for drinks.

There was a huge apparatus set up in all the eating establishments on this huge campus for washing everything, and they didn't use paper or plastic (except for the industrial-strength trays, that people used to sled on in the winter). I worked in campus dining for a while. It was all real dishes, glasses, cups, metal utensils, washed in very hot water on assembly lines. My job was washing pots, in a line with a lot of other students. We washed them using vert hot water, wore heavy rubber gloves and rubber aprons, and used tons of Ajax. The steam was unbelievable.

One thing I do remember about my dorm was carpet surfing. Kids would wet down the carpets in the long hallways, add laundry soap, get a running start, and slide on their feet to the end, trying not to fall down.

Carpeted hallways in a dorm? 😱🤮

R31 Is that unusual?

It was a very basic, flat carpet.

Every dorm I lived in had carpeted hallways.

I was bisexual in college and had an affair with a Vassar Girl. They had "white angels" women in white uniforms who manned a desk at the entry to every dorm, every evening. wearing a white uniform.

so white I typed it thrice. oopsie

I still have a scar on the top of my head from where I stood up straight into the corner of the wall-mounted microwave in our common room and split my head open. The school nurse just tied my hair together to close the wound up. I tell people I got a traumatic brain injury in college to make them think I was a football jock now

The school nurse? You split your head open, how come you didn't go to a doctor or the hospital? That sounds like expert medical care right there.

r38 I didn't even know my college had a medical office until this incident - she said she could call an ambulance et cetera and I could go get stitches, or just do this. Stitches sounded terrifying to my 18-ear-old self so I just did what she said. And I didn't die so I guess she was alright. My hair covers the scar - when I've buzzed my hair down it's visible but otherwise it's hidden

Darfur Community College?

Ground floor shared dorm room with a standalone metal water fountain in the hallway, diagonally outside my room. Some drunk and raging frat ape gets mad because his girlfriend on the adjacent dorm-wing kicked him out. He goes tearing down our hallway screaming half-articulated obscenities and then RIPS the water fountain right off its supply pipe. I heard the entire thing happen from behind my door at 2am on a Saturday night. The torrent of water was instant, the flood was massive, it took over an hour for security to get the right plumbing/tech guy out to shut off the water.

The entire floor reeked of mold for the rest of the year and I had weird headaches until it was over. Yeah.. I lived off-campus after that.

R39 I don't think the issue is whether it left a scar or not.

It's whether you were in any danger from "splitting your head open" (which doesn't really seem to be what happened) and whether the nurse's response was appropriate for your health. Probably should have had a doctor look at it, if it needed stitches. And had exams for concussion.

Freshman year in Men's Hall I ticked the box for a roommate. From the southern part of the set, they put me in with a guy from the northern part of the state. Chunky wrestler, ugly face. Never thought a thing sexually about him. We were never close, hardly friends. But one night after about seven months we sat on his bed and ..... had some sort of sexual encounter, I don't recall much, probably beat each other off while I wondered why am I doing this, this guy is ugly. I don't remember anything else the rest of the year, we never mentioned it or did it again. Years passed, I read he had gone to jail. He was son of a big-time tire dealer upstate and the company had a state contract for huge industrial tires .... which hey delivered, then stole, then sold back to the state. About four times! They got caught by recording tire numbers. A few years ago I looked him up on The Google. First thing up was his obituary. No mention of his time in jail. Died at 65, survived by widow and three children.

R39 Sorry, not trying to sound like ti's such a big deal, just explaining why I was surprised.

*it's

I was an RA for Junior and Senior year to help pay for college. Put a serious crimp in my college life and kept me in the closet. Would NOT do it again. Wasn't worth it, though guys on my hall have randomly contacted me over the years and told me how important I was to their lives.

Lived a straight life - including a girlfriend - except for a few guys that wanted to try it. I must have had a sign on my back that said "Will Experiment." They were one-time events and very unsatisfying.

I was so fucked up that I purposely stayed away from anyone that I thought was gay. And lusted after and fell in love with the straight ones.

Now I'm thinking of more and more stories and events that I haven't thought about in years.

R46 - Please post as you remember 'em!

I was at college late 70s-early 80s. There was a Gay Alliance that attracted a few students. A lot of people were closeted. Not easy to make people understand what that was like, at that particular time. There was a guy I partly thought was attracted to me, and I was more or less attracted to him (not a big crush, or anything) but we never mentioned it. It was such a hidden thing that people didn't feel comfortable about. Caused a huge amount of anxiety because of the lack of communication about it. I never had a gay relationship at college, but one of my friends came out as gay then almost died taking an overdose. Strange times. Everything seemingly fine on the surface.

Most of us came out of the '50s-'60s mentality as kids, all the social norms, good manners, look good, make good. But also there was the reality and everybody was horny and looking at porn, making dirty jokes, talking about sex constantly but in a superficial way--and there was all that '70s humor, and culturally things were a lot of fun--movies, concerts. More fun than now.

There were 6 gay men and women on my floor freshman year, it turns out. I knew of 4 of them during that time. Met my first partner the 2nd week of classes.

Our dorm had single rooms instead of doubles, which may be why we had a higher LG rate.

That's all I've got.

Another memory, this one funnier. The juice incident.

I didn’t have the best time in college, in part because there was worsening financial pressure back at home and so I loaded up off-campus and work-study jobs to make it through financially. First two years, I worked in the dining-hall dishroom. It was WORK and I always needed a shower and total clothing change after, but usually we (crew) bonded and we had some fun moments when we could.

There were a coup of asshole frats who liked to “juice” us dishroom workers. You (diner) would put your finished lunch tray on a conveyor belt, anonymously, and it would glide down to us (crew) to deal with. These guys liked to fill plastic drinking glasses up with juice, and then do a trick where you turn them upside down onto the tray and the juice all stays in the glasses. We (crew) then had seconds to deal with the tray of upside down juice glasses coming thru the conveyor belt, and we’d inevitably end up soaked in juice. “Ha ha ha.”

One day Angela (my fave co worker) came in quick and said “Juice situation in 15 seconds.”

Two of us did the thing we’d sworn we would do: I grabbed an empty tray quick, passed it to Dominic, and he was in position. As the frat boy placed his tray filled with upside down juice glasses onto the belt, Dominic flung the empty tray backwards down the belt, hard. It smashed into frat boy’s tray full of upside down juice glasses (most of them grape of course) and those glasses went airborne and all over him. Dominic dove quick like a monkey under the whole belt apparatus and up the other side and hid in the back. Frat boy, covered in a purple slosh of juice, stormed into the kitchen. His buddies out there were hooting and screaming with laughter. He saw me first and attacked me, shoving me into a wall and screaming at me. Supervisor saw something was going on and she rushed in, threatened to have him reported and charged with assault. He said a few profane things and then stormed off wet and purple. I know this sounds like a “… and then everybody applauded” tale but this was the rare time in my life where such a story actually happened.

Fortunately I was in a green dishwashing uniform with cap and was wearing my old eye glasses instead of the usual contacts. Saw the guy a few times around campus after that, but he didn’t recognize me.

Love it r51.

BTW, this was the early 70s at a state college. I can't imagine how different it was in the 80s and 90s.

Such a waste trying to be the best little boy in the world.

I already mentioned I worked for dining, as a dishwasher, but I also worked as a short order cook, and washing lab equipment, and a few other campus jobs. The weirdest one was the first, when I had to work at the gym. Back then people didn't wear their own gym clothes at the gym (I've totally forgotten why. It must have been a rule.) They were given a set of clean shorts, a jockstrap, a T shirt and socks over a counter. It sounds crazy now. When you were done with the gym clothes, you returned them and they were washed (somewhere else). I had to work in the 'cage' where these things were given out and returned, with a couple of townie guys who were real throwbacks. Anyhow soon I was taken out of there and given a "better job."

This was not a co-ed gym, in those days (late '70s). My job was, sort of, security. I was supposed to hang out in the changing areas, pretending to be going to the gym, or something, and just walk around making sure nobody was stealing anything out of someone's coat or pants, or whatever. I wasn't given a uniform or a badge, I was supposed to be undercover (there had been a lot of thefts). I was only 18.

One day, a guy I used to say hi to sometimes, said to me, "What are you doing, anyway?" and I told him. He said, "I thought you were checking out the guys." It never even occurred to me anyone would think this. But it was a terrible job, anyway (just very easy, since I didn't do a thing except walk around for three hours or so, after class). So I quit and I told the boss why. "Never thought of that," he said.

[quote] Such a waste trying to be the best little boy in the world.

R53 Well, it worked out OK for Andrew Tobias (see link).

I once lamented the same thing to an ex, who said, “Who knows, you might have died of AIDS if you had been sexually active then.”

I discovered in therapy that all the trouble when young made me a stronger, more resilient person later in life.

[quote] I discovered in therapy that all the trouble when young made me a stronger, more resilient person later in life.

Over the years, different therapists have told me the same thing. They also have told me that I have PTSD from my experiences as a youth (prior to college). Sometimes I'd rather be less strong and resilient and had an easier youth.

Off-Topic...The first time I read 'The Best Little Boy in the World', I loved it. The second time I read it I thought Tobias was an arrogant asshole. One of those same therapists that told me I was stronger, knew Tobias personally and said he WAS an arrogant asshole.

OP this made my day. I lived in U-Hall 2 Freshman year in the late 80s. So many stories! I had sex in men’s room across the hall many times (with a woman!)

My major in college was tiny so all of us, like some artsy mob, would hit the bars Thursday to Sunday. We drank like it was a group project.

One night I was so drunk on the way back to my dorm that I had to pee immediately. I wandered into another dorm, picked a stall, and after finishing I just sat there to collect myself. Pants up.

Out of nowhere, this older guy walks in. Grey hair. Salt and pepper beard. I think I see him peeking through the stall crack but I’m too drunk to trust my eyes. Then he does it again. Definitely staring at me. So in my deepest, most heterosexual voice I yell, “Can I help you m*therfucker?” He yells “Sorry! Sorry!” and takes off like the place is on fire.

Years later I found out that dorm was a legendary late night cruising spot. At the time I was terrified. Now I just picture him telling the same story somewhere with a much different ending.

R24 in 1980 you would have been allowed to apply to just one campus. You picked Santa Cruz—yes? Or were you “redirected” after rejection somewhere else.

cornell has some HOT frat boys

Every school does

My college did not have co-Ed dorms in the 80s. Opposite sex visitors had to be escorted by a resident and leave at 9:00 pm. Of course, no one adhered to those rules, and they weren’t always enforced. One time in the middle of the night, some asshole pulled the fire alarm and the whole dorm had to be evacuated. It was funny seeing all the embarrassed girls who had been crashing with their boyfriends out on the sidewalk. Even better was all the guys who had evacuated in nothing but their underwear.

There was a guy in my dorm in the early 1970s who worked on a barge on the Mississippi River the year before. He was gorgeous, had a muscular body from the work, and was very confident. He would walk naked through the hallway on the way to the common showers, towel across his shoulder, every day. Once, two co-eds were in the hallway visiting a resident. He walked right past them, smiled and wished them a good day.

His areolas were taut on his big chest, which was also very hairy. There was a knob of a head on his cock; his balls were big; his bush was one of the biggest I had ever seen. He once bent over in the shower, giving me a good look between his buttocks. I was terrifyingly closeted; if it was an offer I totally backed away from it.

He used to say the guys on the barge would walk around naked when they weren't passing by populated areas. He had no tan lines, so I believed him. He disappeared the following year, maybe back to a barge.

r59, not quite true. In 1980, applicants chose their top 3 campuses in order of preference. Santa Cruz was my first, followed by Davis, followed by Berkeley (all NorCal campuses). In my heart, I really wanted to live in Gay SF and attend SF State, to where I eventually did transfer. I grew up in Berkeley, where my Mom had a pretty big position in the UC Regents' Office. My father had been a Cal grad. SF was "A State School". Simply unheard of, lol! She wanted me to go UCB and live with friends to save money on housing. While I did not have the grades to get into Cal, she insisted on pulling her connections, which I refused. There was no way in hell I was going to live near home. But she was right -- I had to work part-time to pay for housing, which was a hassle. And Santa Cruz was on the quarter system, which was not conducive to holding a job. Little did I know that my lab job experience there would lead to an entire career.

UCSC was full of Berkeley (and some UCLA) "redirects". Many of them were dreaded pre-meds. I had been a Marine Biology major (a very naive choice, but I was going to pump iron, grow a hairy chest, and look sexy in a wetsuit while saving the entire planet) and had to take all of the general science courses with these competitive bitches.

I think that the number of students at Santa Cruz who didn't want to be there contributed to a sort of dark mood on campus. I ended up spending a lot of weekends in San Francisco where I could be open, and ended up living there until retirement last year. Still wouldn't trade my experience with living in the dorms -- even though it was often depressing -- for anything.

Minor note: You were actually applying to a single campus only. Your “back-up” choice would only consider you under the redirection process. In those days you could not be formally admitted to more than one campus. The solution was to transfer later on, which was more easily done back then. Very different from now.

I was closeted in college, early to mid 80s. My freshman dorm was sex segregated by floor. Two floors were women, four were men. My roommate was kind of an oddball. We went our separate ways after freshman year. Saw him at my reunion recently. Nice guy, but still a bit of an oddball. In sophomore year, I lived in an on-campus apartment with four other guys. Three of us came out of the closet after college. In my junior year, I lived off campus in a house with 5 jocks. One other jock who was supposed to live there backed out after the others discovered gay porn in his room. One of the jocks was particularly homophobic about it. He's still an oversized teenager with a couple of failed marriages. The others were all pretty intelligent and shrugged off the fact that a fellow jock was gay. The father of one of those jocks later came out. It's rather ironic that one guy backed out of the house because he was embarrassed to be caught with gay porn only to have me -- closeted at the time -- move in. I keep in contact with one of the jock housemates. He's married to a woman, but I've had my suspicions.

r65, ah, got it. It's a moot point as UCSC was my first choice. I think at the time, UCSC and Riverside were the least popular choices, so I was guaranteed acceptance. If I recall correctly, few of my classmates who were redirects ended up transferring to Cal. Don't know if that was by choice. I remember certain "rich kids" from LA (including my room mate) ending up at private schools like USC or colleges Back East.

I applied the same year: 1980. We saw plenty of UCLA and Santa Barbara transfers to Cal back then. Santa Cruz got an undeserved rep as a “safe” choice; I knew many happy grads from there. They had quality drugs (I had many fraternity brothers who lived on the Hwy 17 corridor with good weekend connections)😎.

I also knew several kids from Berkeley High whose last choice was to stay local for Cal…a few made their way back.

[quote] pulling all-nighters

I have always hated this phrase. If you kept up with the work/reading during the semester and planned ahead for papers, etc., it should not have been necessary. I have memories of people talking about it as if it were some heroic act.

[quote] 95% of the dorms were co-ed, with shared bathrooms

A very stupid idea.

r70, why is it "a very stupid idea"? The atmosphere was comfortable and supportive, like living with siblings, but better because everyone chose to be there.

Are you living in the 1950s or in a convent?

I lived on one of two single-sex floors in 8 story high rise. One of three laundry rooms was on our floor. So we had a lot of foot traffic. The other six floors were coed. Bathrooms on my men’s floor were open to both sexes.

R71, I was referring only to the shared bathrooms. I, too, lived on a coed dorm floor after my freshman year. One side men, the other side women, with separate bathrooms.

I can't imagine why a young homo would want to share a bathroom with women.

At least you had a dorm room after freshman year.

We had no guaranteed housing at all. I knew freshmen with the worst lottery numbers scrambling to find a coop or an apt. Sophomores and higher were at the mercy of the rental market, the coop system or Greek rush.

Circa 1987, on most weeknights you’d find me hosting a bunch of guys in my freshman dorm room to watch Late Night With David Letterman. We’d order Domino’s pizza, drink a little beer, and I would try to sit close to whatever guy I was secretly crushing on the most that week.

Few of them understood why I was always laughing so hard when Sandra Bernhard was on and couldn’t believe it when I said she was my all time favorite of Dave’s guests.

Later that year, a sexy guy from Palos Verdes named Roger made an aggressive pass at me totally out of the blue and we started a hot and heavy little love affair. When I asked him why he was so confident in making that first move, he said “One word… SANDRA!”.

From the good part of PV, or the other part. There was a pecking order, so to speak.

Freshman year (I think) I walked in on a sexual assault.

This guy Blake was obsessed with golf and the gym. He was tall and fit, but super nice—like a Disney prince or a golden retriever. He’d get wild on the weekends when he drank, but he was never a mean drunk. Anyway, being the slight loser I was in college, I was in my dorm at 2 a.m. I went to the bathroom and found Blake passed out in the handicap stall with his pants and boxers around his ankles while another classmate was seemingly fondling him. I could never be 100% certain but there was zero reason to be touching his dick.

I went over to ask what happened. Anthony (the perv) claimed he found him like this a little bit ago. I just remember rushing back out to get the RA. I know people can choke on vomit or get alcohol poisoning, so getting help was the higher priority over whatever it was I saw. By the time the RA came, Anthony had managed to pull Blake's boxers on. Paramedics were called. We had to write statements but I didn't mention the fondling because I was too scared of the back and forth confrontation. And, what if i was wrong?

I asked Blake what he remember from that night, but he said he completely blacked out. He didn't remember even getting back to the dorm. I figured if he can't remember then it's best to just leave it alone. He was back to his happy go lucky self, so at the time I felt that was the right thing to do. Plus, there was enough gay panic on our floor and I didn't want to feed into that paranoia. But, every time I see Blake on my Facebook or Instagram feed, I think of that night.

Anthony and I didn't say much beyond a quiet hello when passing in the hallway.

Hawt

R76 most all of the Palos Verdes peninsula is very nice, but he was from Rolling Hills which is one of the most exclusive neighborhoods.

PVE and Rolling Hills are the two higher end cities. RPV and RHE are the lesser cities.

I used to suck off my college roommate during junior and senior years whenever his girlfriend would not put out. Fortunately for me, she was pretty frigid, so many more massages leading to blowjobs for me. During my freshman year, I lived in the oldest dorm on campus which housed about 80 freshmen and sophomore males. Even though there were bathrooms on each floor, the showers were in the basement - one large room with about 20 shower heads. I'm pretty sure that, by the end of the year, I had seen every other guy in the dorm naked.

Did your roommate ever say anything during or after the blowjobs?

He was never awake during said jobs. ;)

R57 Haha. Just curious--I usually had sex in my room (or my girlfriend's room--I was still going out with girls then). Why did you have sex in the bathroom??

Here are some facebook memories.

One thing that stands out is that as a freshman I was walking back to the U-Halls with my girlfriend after seeing a movie on campus. Saw the Northern Lights.

[quote]My freshman dorm was sex segregated by floor. Two floors were women, four were men.

Same here. One day, the girls from the floor below papered our communal bathroom with Playgirl centerfolds -- in the stalls, around the mirrors, outside the showers. They stayed there for several days before anyone took them down.

U-Halls had three floors with men, one floor with women, when I was there. (I think.)

[quote]Same here. One day, the girls from the floor below papered our communal bathroom with Playgirl centerfolds -- in the stalls, around the mirrors, outside the showers. They stayed there for several days before anyone took them down.

My first dorm freshman year was co-ed. In that part of campus, the floors were split so you’d walk out of the building in either direction and pass a row of girls’ rooms, then a row of boys’ rooms. Our bathrooms were separate but girls would run into guys with a towel or vice versa just walking up the hall. I used to watch the WB on Sunday nights with a group of lesbians who lived on the first floor of another dorm. It was considered the “gay” part of campus, so that made sense.

My second dorm freshman year (I had moved) was separated by sex floor by floor. Back then, the front dormitory doors stayed unlocked all day and were locked at night, requiring a pass key to get in. Most people also left their dorm room doors unlocked, so anyone could just walk in. I got used to people just walking in like an 80s tv sitcom nosy neighbor.

That changed when a freshman exchange student began going into the rooms of various girls and attempting to sexually assault them. He eventually succeeded. After that, the “Age of Innocence” ended. All dorm buildings were locked 24/7 for the next few years, and people started locking their individual rooms as well.

There was no cable and it was pretty had to get much reception on portable TVs in the dorms. The basement lounge had one TV. You could go into any dorm in those days and look for a TV no one was watching if you wanted to watch a late movie.

*hard

r84 my roommate was sort of a loser and never left the room. The girl O banged in the shower needed up being a total slut. We had really hot sex. And she was really into me. I never understood why I always got so hard for her vs other women I actually tried dating.

Regardless, those slummy rest areas outside Binghamton taught me that i was gay. I was so scared. I would get those 3-packs of porn mags from the gas station down on Rte 17 my senior year. I even remember driving to the Common Ground and marveling at all the cars that were parked there. I was a frat boy and wouldn’t have been caught dead going to a place like that. But I wanted manhole. Desperately.

R90 Common Ground was on West State Street when I lived in Ithaca. (Downtown.) Are you talking about that or the later incarnation (after the club downtown burned down) out past I. C. in Danby?

t87 our dorms automatically locked when closed. Everyone had a lanyard they'd carry with them everywhere with the dorm key. Building was key card access. Would have been nice to have rooms that could stay unlocked but I guess safty was a higher priority.

Someone upthread who posted about someone pulling a dorm fire alarm in the middle of the night reminded me of something. I lived on a sprawling campus that consisted of 8 different "colleges" that were really just clusters of dorms with small classrooms and its own dining hall, library, and study center. The study centers were open 24/7. They were spread out by a 5-10 minute walks on beautiful pathways through the woods. To get from the extreme ends of the campus, going from one college to the one on the other end was a 15-20 minute hike that took you through several different colleges. I was seeing someone who had a single room on the other side of campus. Unfortunately, I had some damned 8:00am lecture classes.

I the wee hours, I'd sneak back to my own room. The number of other kids (mostly girls for some reason) in various states of dress and tossledness that I would pass along the way surprised me. Took me a few times to figure out what was going on, that they were doing the same thing. They were not pulling all-nighters at the study centers.

Only a decade or so ago, while watching a movie, I heard the term "Walk of Shame" used. Guess it can be used in many contexts, but I immediately had flashbacks to my college campus.

r91 i’m talking about the one out in the boonies. I’d heard people talk about it and I couldn’t believe how many cars were there. Like, hundreds.

I was such a loser lol.

Santa Cruise

One friend worked as a campus phone operator and she taught us this trick where you could call two random people in the dorms at the same time and since both of their numbers would ring, we could listen in on them arguing “why’d you call me?” “Fuck you, you called me!”

We were all poor and bored and needed entertainment.

I cringe when I think about how gross and shitty we were in the dorm. I lived on the 10th floor, and my friends and I would just toss our Marlboro Lights butts and pizza crusts out the window. So trashy.

My RA threatened to write me up a few times. He had weekly “floor meetings” and I never once went to one, and he didn’t like that. I could not be bothered. He also went into my room (I had a single) one weekend when I had gone home, and said he was going to report me because I had an “illegal” microwave and booze in my room. If he ever did “report” me, nothing ever came of it.

Someone took the TV from my dorm building's rec room and threw it off a fourth floor balcony, r97. How's that for trashy?

R94 Oh, yeah. I think you said you were there in the late '80s, right? I never knew the one in the boonies existed until I read your post then looked it up. I used to go to the one downtown a lot, but it was really a mix of people then. It was supposed to be (at least that's what my research tells me). Gay, straight, everyone, hence the name, Common Ground. The one on W. State St. may have been a case of arson.

Speaking of the boonies, though, my favorite restaurant/hangout was probably the Rongovian Embassy, in Trumansburg. Other than that it was Ruloff's, the Chariot, the Nines, or Cabbagetown.

God I barely remember those places.

Some of us were luckier. There was a Steamworks right in town…and dozens of sex clubs a 25 minute train ride away.