Tired of being accused of "just making things up" and "writing about nothing" by my Opinion columnist friend, I decided to embark on a journey to discover the true secrets of the place we call "Club Clemons." My original intent was to report back in the form of entries into my private diary. But, after losing said diary on the first day of my adventure, I opted for a format that is not only less personal, but also much, much cooler.
Captain's Log
Day 1: Top Floor
I walk in, ready for my first full night in the Clemons. I still can't believe someone stole my diary. I bet it was one of those Comm schoolers. They're always up here in their fancy suits and group projects. First they take my future job prospects, now they take my diary full of hopes and dreams? Screw you, Mr. McIntire. You know what, this whole incident has made me too upset to stay here for the rest of the night. I'm coming back tomorrow.
Thoughts on the top floor:
-- Too loud
-- The coffee is terrible
-- I should stop keeping a diary
Day 2: Robertson Media Center
Sweet, I have hundreds of movies at my disposal. This will definitely be the best night I spend in Clemons. I'm going to go check something out ...
... OK, all set up. Who knew this floor closed at 2 in the morning? Pfft, some 24-hour library. I'm not going to let that keep me from watching all of these movies, so I'll just commandeer three of the video sets at once. Sweet.
Thoughts on the media center:
-- Closes too early
-- The movies are awesome
-- No one is cooler than Indiana Jones
-- Except for James Freakin' Bond!
-- Love, actually, is all around?
Day 3: Floor with no identity (Second Floor)
I promised myself I would spend at least one full night in this library, and I'm going to do it. I have vending machines and an ID card with $50 dollars of Cav Advantage on it. There's no way I don't make it through the night.
Hmm, the cubicles don't look very inviting. I think I'll sit at one of those big desks.
[Starts doing work]
Is that girl looking at me? She looks familiar, maybe I know her from somewhere. Should I wave? What if I don't know her and that just makes things awkward? Wait, did she just wave? Crap, I missed it. I know, I'll give her a discrete head nod. Way to play it cool.
Wow, I'm getting hungry. It's a good thing I loaded up on Cav Advantage before I left. Let's see what we have here.
[10 honey buns later]
I think I'm going to be sick. I have some Pepto Bismol at home. It's only 2:30 in the morning, but it looks like I'll have to accept failure again.
Thoughts on the second floor:
-- Who keeps carving "finals suck" on all the desks?
-- Those wooden chairs really do a number on your butt area
-- Who was that girl and did she really wave at me?
-- I will never eat another honey bun in my life
Day 4: The Quiet Floor
I learned from last night's experience, so I've come back fully loaded. I have sandwiches, drinks, a toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash and two half-full cases of Tic Tacs for maximum jiggly noise-making when I walk. I have to show these bottom-dwellers that I'm not one of them, after all.
After sitting down, I've decided that this silence is actually rather peaceful. I feel bad about the Tic Tacs stunt now, but no one seemed to care ... Oh man, some guy is down here with his headphones on full blast.
MEMO to headphones guy: The rules regarding silence apply to you as well as the Three 6 Mafia. No exceptions.
This is just in my opinion. In someone else's opinion, humming along with "Since U Been Gone" is also a violation of the rules, so that shows how much opinions are worth these days.
I spend the rest of the night defiantly humming along to all sorts of manly songs to compensate for listening to Kelly Clarkson.
Thoughts on the quiet floor:
-- People need to relax a little
-- The wooden chairs still hurt
-- It's OK for a man to listen to songs about girl power
Ed's column runs bi-weekly on Fridays. He can be reached at edcao@cavalierdaily.com.
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