One of our former RAs Erin Skaer did a creative writing piece about the job, more specifically about the circus that can be a night on duty (cue the music).  While this is obviously an over exaggeration and perhaps grim outlook of what many of us would consider a rough duty night, it does lend some comedic relief to one of the less favorable aspects of the position.  Erin was a RA for 3 years on campus and worked in Wells West & Fricker during her time here.

Here is an excerpt from her paper:

Speaking of loud noises, where is that bass coming from? While approaching the head pounding, mind numbing “music” the plan of attack is discussed. Coming up to the room, the RAs’ heartbeats slowly begin to mimic the infamous theme from Jaws. Any and all thoughts are beat out of their minds as the kick drum pounds its way through their skulls. Knocking on the door proves to be pointless. The next step is to bang your fists as hard as possible; when this doesn’t work, one of the RAs channels their inner David Beckham and swiftly kicks the door. The door cracks and a nose pokes out asking “What’s up?”

“Can you open the door please and also turn the music down?”  That was a mistake. The dial of the stereo is turned from deafening to a mild ear-splitting and the sly smirk of a resident who believes they have just outsmarted the RAs appears.

“Can you turn the music off?”

The smirk fades as the stereo is flipped off. Peering into the room, the notorious trail of red solo cups leads to a bottle of vodka. Drinking on a Tuesday night? What could you possibly be celebrating?

As the residents realize they are about to be documented for breaking policy, they morph into ferocious blood-sucking mutations of the sweet scholars you sat next to in class mere hours ago. They bear their fangs, claws fully extended, while the RAs stand their ground. Screeching like banshees, they try desperately to convince you that they are just playing water pong and they have no idea how that bottle of Svedka got there. It’s really amazing how often leprechauns or elves magically put alcohol into the rooms of underage residents.

During an alcohol situation, a version of the following conversation is certain to take place:

The RAs start, “We are going to need you to bring all the alcohol, empty containers included, into the center of the room.”

“There is no alcohol in here.”

“Well, I can smell it on your breath and also I see a bottle of vodka sitting right there.”

“Oh, I forgot about that. But that’s the only one.”

“Are you sure? If we come back again and the “leprechauns” have placed more alcohol in this room, we will have to document it again. It would be easier on everyone if we only had to do this once.”

Eyes dart around the room as residents are cautious not to be the only one to make a move. They slowly start to unveil the bottles; removing them from Cheese-It boxes, within a microwave, and out from behind the pathetic excuse of a card pyramid. Along with the original bottle of Svedka, two other bottles and numerous cans of Coors Lite are produced and placed in the middle of the room. As the bottles and cans are collected, the RAs ask the residents to hand them their student IDs. Four of the IDs are given to the RAs without hesitation, while two of them insist that they don’t have them.

Want to read the whole thing?  https://drive.google.com/file/d/0Bxz2ECbzFCYSb19zbWR6RlE5VDg/edit?usp=sharing <<< go here.