The Reason I Left My Bra On

While I am sure many people have their own college dorm stories, this story generally harbors a significant laugh from my audience. After the laughs, comments like "you didn't!" or "were you drunk?" follow. Maybe I should be embarrassed, but instead I'm quite proud of myself for it. No, I wasn't drunk. I was completely sober. It came from my very own impulsive mind, and watching the incident in real time caused my roommates to bust out of their chairs in giggles.

My two sophomore year college roommates were fairly ordinary. They were recently inducted sorority girls that were working on gifts for their senior members on the night of this occurrence. How I wound up being one of their roommates as a geeky goth girl, I'll never know, but we got along surprisingly well. Our relationship improved even more after this night and the events therein.

At least two nights a week every week, a group of girls from the D.C. metro area would come back to the fifth floor of Bryant Place residential hall drunk, high, or maybe both. In doing so, they would cause quite the ruckus; slinging their food and drinks down the hallway while screaming and shouting. The food and beverages wouldn't be cleaned up before our morning classes. Unless you were a deep sleeper, you couldn't avoid their noise waking you up. Occasionally, they would even pull the fire alarms as a prank. This was business as usual at Bryant Place, but business as usual didn't mean that the majority of us liked it.

When I came out of my room into the shared living space, my two roommates were beyond disgusted at the cacophony of noises the D.C. girls were once again making.

"Welcome to the party." Megan said sarcastically and threw her hand in the air.

"I figured I might as well get my senior's present ironed since I'm already up." Kaylyn stated, "They do this almost EVERY night."

Megan replied, "And the Residential Advisors won't do ANYTHING about it!"

"Don't worry! I got this. But first, I'm going to need that iron." I turned at them with a wink.

"What are you going to do with my iron?" Kaylyn said, not sure whether she should have been relieved, horrified, or shocked. Still, she handed her iron to me and remarked, "It isn't hot yet."

"Perfect, this model sprays water doesn't it?"

Confusion came on both of the girls faces.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt them with your iron. Though I may need to spray their drunk asses in the face with it." I chuckled.

They laughed and said, "I don't think we've ever heard you cuss. So, what's the plan?"

"I'll show you."

I opened our door out into the hallway wearing my plush tiger striped pajama bottoms, frazzled hair, and an A-shirt with my bra straps showing.

I leaned out the door with Kaylyn's iron in my hand and shouted, "I knew I left my bra on for a reason, so I won't be jiggling while I'm beating the snot out of you!"

I pumped my fist with the iron in it a few times, and within seconds the girls slammed the doors to their respective dorm rooms.

I turned to my roommates and said, "See, people don't mess with crazy."

They literally rolled on the floor laughing, tears pouring out their eyes and limbs flailing everywhere.

"I didn't know a quiet girl like you had that in you!" Kaylyn shouted.

I laughed and gave her iron back. I didn't really have an idea of what to say to the D.C. girls to make them think I was crazy, so I just shouted whatever came out. Luckily, it worked at keeping them quiet for the remainder of the semester. I overheard them whisper about that crazy girl down the hall anytime they got a little loud or worked up. For years afterward, my roommates and friends exchanged jokes and birthday gifts about the incident like this journal pictured below. Journals, mugs, water bottles, shirts, and many other items would have some sort of reference to the lovely undergarment comment I made on the fly that one time in college. It seems I truly had left my bra on for a reason, after all.